


Luminescent (Inheritance Cycle)

by ReallyStressedCollegeStudent



Category: Eragon (2006), The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Alethea - Freeform, F/M, Khensamel, Mal - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 16:29:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 44
Words: 94,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20531054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReallyStressedCollegeStudent/pseuds/ReallyStressedCollegeStudent
Summary: Mal, daughter of none, lives on a small farm in rural Carvahall with her two cousins, Eragon and Roran, and her uncle, Garrow. One day, she and her cousin Eragon experience a mystifying explosion that results in the pair finding two stone.Follow the pair as they uncover what the stones really are, and enter the frightening reality that lays beyond the sleepy valley they call home. Secrets are revealed, tempers flare, and hearts break.Will Eragon and Mal’s lives ever go back to the way it was? Find out in the Luminescent series.As per usual, I obviously don't own any of the characters save for my OC's most the script and events belong to Christopher Paolini.





	1. Part One: Luminescent

A tale told a thousand times. Only those who dare defy Empire, whisper the true stories. A time of Dragons, Elves, and truth. A time, of Dragon Riders.

_The Tale Thus Far:_

Mal, daughter of none, lives on a small farm at the edges of Alagaësia with her cousins Eragon, Roran, and uncle Garrow. A hunting trip gone sour proves to be the change of a life time as stories of the past come to life in the form of two dragon eggs.


	2. Chapter One: Luminescent

I slowly crept forward, making sure that I made no noise as I approached my longtime friend, Eragon. From what the trampled reeds said, the deer herd we were tracking was only about a half-hour off. The clear darkening sky was an indicator that doe with a slight limp that we had our eyes on was about to bed down for the night, providing an opportunity for Eragon and me to bring home a rather large game that we desperately needed.

It was a rather broody night in the Spine, pale fog covered the forest floor, completely obscuring Eragon and I's feet as a harvest moon illuminated the valley. Very few dared to enter the Spine, the few that made it out told tales of misfortune and death. Eragon and I were the only hunters in Carvahall that dared to track game into the Spine.

I shivered slightly before snuggling my chin into my scarf, winter was not that far off, and our family needed this deer to survive, we couldn't afford to buy meat in Carvahall, it was too expensive. I felt Eragon nudge my side before pointing in the direction of the deer herd. I gave him a quick nod before we started to creep forward, Eragon pulled out three arrows and strung one on his yew bow.

I held back as Eragon approached our intended game, I may be a hunter, but I didn't like to kill animals, I left that up to Eragon. I didn't come on these hunting trips with Eragon for the heck of it. I went because of my uncanny ability to track anything. I wrinkled my nose as Eragon pulled his arm back, preparing to shoot, just as I began to turn my head away from the deer, there was a loud explosion and a burst of light.

I held my hand up, shielding my eyes from the light until it dimmed down, I blinked away the spots in my eyes, and looked for the source of the explosion. Several trees were missing their needles, and the grass where the deer had been standing was now chard, letting smoke slowly waft into the air, leaving an unpleasant burnt smell in my nose. I covered my nose with my scarf and coughed a couple of times before the sky cleared of smoke.

"Mal, are you ok?"

"I'm fine Eragon, the smoke from whatever was is just getting to my nose. We no longer have any game to bring back to the farm, though. Do you have any idea what that was?"

"No, but look," Eragon said, pointing to two stones sitting in the middle of the explosion. I looked down at two polished stones, one blue, and one white. I started to step closer to the two stones, how on earth did they get here? Eragon grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the smoldering circle. "Don't go near it Mal. We don't know what it is."

I huffed at Eragon before crossing my arms. He was starting to get protective. But to soothe his ego, I stayed where I was as he crept up to the two mysterious stones. Eragon pulled out an arrow and poked one of the stones before jumping back.

"Eragon, I don't think they are going to do any harm, put your bow away." He looked at me for a moment before placing the arrow back in his quiver. "We should take them back to Carvahall. We might be able to sell them to Sloan for meat."

Eragon sighed at me before bending down to pick up the blue stone, I followed after him and picked up the white stone, sliding it into my pack.

"We should find somewhere else to make camp," I said glancing around the charred clearing with unease. "I feel exposed."

"So do I. Follow me. I think I saw a good place for camp back the way we came."

I followed Eragon until we came to a spot that was indeed good for camping. I pulled out my bedroll and laid it on the ground. Three days in the Spine only to come up empty-handed, Garrow was not going to be happy. I accepted the bread and cheese Eragon offered me and ate in silence, after my cold dinner, I wrapped myself in my blanket before lying down and trying to get some sleep.

I opened my eyes to see the morning sun peeking through the trees in reds and oranges, the air had the chill of oncoming winter, and the fresh dew on the grass and leaves now had a frosty touch. I stretched and folded my blanket and bedroll, I pulled out some dry oats and mixed them with some water to make breakfast for Eragon and I. I set the cold porridge down and shook Eragon's shoulder.

"Eragon wake up, breakfast is ready, we need to eat and set out for the farm." Eragon groaned at me before cracking his eyes open. "Rise and shine."

"Good morning, Mal, I will never know how you can get up this early."

"Good morning to you, now eat your porridge, we need to head back to the farm," I said while handing him his porridge. We quickly ate and finished packing, Eragon wanted to check the blast site one more time before leaving, we tested it, and there was no change, so we headed out of the Spine.

The forest began to thin out, and the familiar worn path that leads to the farm came into sight. By late evening, we came across the familiar ravine that dropped down to the Anora river, which leads straight to Palancar Valley, home.

"Let's camp here tonight and pick back up tomorrow." I followed Eragon to a bushy area and hunkered down for the night. Tomorrow we would reach the farm and then head out to Carvahall to try and sell these two stones.

Eragon and I set out in the early morning chill, it was even colder than yesterday, and soon blankets of snow would cover the valley, making it very difficult to move the ten miles to Carvahall from the farm. It grew colder the next day and a half we traveled. I could finally see the white puffs my breath let out in the air. It was mid-morning when we heard the Igualda Falls, the quiet air broken by the bubbling sound of water on rocks.

We came upon the half a mile-high waterfall and looked at our decent. It was going to be rough. Eragon and I started to make our way down the sparse hillside, grappling the side of the hill when we slipped. We finally made it down and began to walk to Carvahall, which was in our sights.

We started to wind our way through the village, and I unconsciously pulled my hood further up, Eragon noticed my action and sent me a reassuring smile. We passed the local gathering spot where I could hear the men talking about the incoming winter. It was easy enough to say that just about everyone in Carvahall suffered during the cold months.

Eragon and I came up to a sturdy wooden building, there was smoke coming out of its chimney stack, and the windows were lit up by candles. The butcher's shop, one of the places I hated most when visiting Carvahall. Eragon pushed open the door, and we proceed into the building.

The building was warm and brightly lit thanks to a crackling fire in the corner of the room. Eragon stepped ahead of me and approached the long butcher's counter where a man was currently polishing the wood. Sloan.

He was a short, stout man with beady black eyes. He wore a cotton shirt with his butcher's smock currently covered in blood. I wrinkled my nose in disgust before walking up next to Eragon.

"Well, the mighty hunter and his tracker finally decide to join us mortals. How many did you bag this time?" Sloan said with a sneer. I could feel Eragon tense up at Sloan's words before he relaxed.

"None." He coolly replied, making Sloan's fast twist into confusion before returning to normal.

"I'm amazed," Sloan said, turning around and cleaning the wall. "That's the reason why you two are here?"

"Yes." Sloan turned back to us and put his rag down.

"If that's the case, let me see your money." Sloan tapped his fingers on the wood counter impatiently. Eragon shifted on his feet next to me. "Come on, either you have it, or you don't. Which is it?"

"We don't have any, but we do-" Sloan cut Eragon off sharply.

"What, no money?" Sloan puffed out in anger. "And you expect to buy meat! Are the other merchants giving away their wares? Should I hand you two the goods without charge? Besides," Sloan cut off and placed outside the window. "it's late. Come back tomorrow with money. I'm closed for the day."

"We can't wait until tomorrow, Sloan. It'll be worth your while, though; we found something to pay you with." Eragon and I pulled out the two stones and gently set them down on the counter. Sloan stared at the stones in greed.

"Stole it is more likely." Eragon and I ignored Sloan's comment.

"Will these two be enough?" Sloan picked the blue stone up and examined it, inspecting the weight and the white veins that ran along the stones smooth surface.

"It's pretty, but how much is it worth?" Eragon sighed before responding.

"We don't know, but no one would have gone to the trouble of shaping it unless it has some value."

"Obviously, but how much value? Since you don't know, I suggest that you find a trader who does, or take my offer of three crowns each." I let out a snarl, three crowns, that wouldn't get us enough meat to last a week!

"That's a miser's bargain! It must be worth at least the times that amount." Eragon said in protest. These two stones are worth a lot more than three crowns. I thought to myself while simmering in anger.

"If you don't like my offer," Sloan said with a shrug. "Wait until the traders arrive. either way, I'm tired of this conversation."

"Fine, I'll accept." I didn't want Eragon to accept, but without meat, we would starve.

"Good, I'll get you the meat. Not that it matters, but where did you find this?"

"Two nights ago in the Spine." Sloan spun around and pushed the two stones back at us.

"Get out," Sloan screamed at us before stomping over to his knives and scrubbing old bloodstains off. I quickly took the white stone and slipped it into my pack with relief, since finding the stone I had started to become more and more protective of it.

"Why," Eragon asked while drawing the blue stone closer. I guess I am not the only one feeling protective.

"I won't deal with anything you two bring back from those damned mountains! Take your sorcerers' stones elsewhere."

"You refuse to sell to us?" Eragon fired back. He was beginning to get angry.

"Yes, unless you pay me with coins! Now go, before I make you!" Sloane yelled, waving his hand. The door to the butcher's shop slammed open before a hulking man named Horst walked in with Katrina, Sloan's daughter slowly trailing from behind. "They won't-"

"Quiet." Horst thundered while cracking his knuckles, Sloan immediately fell silent. Horst was Carvahall's blacksmith, he was tall and built strong from years of hammering metal into tools and nobody, not even Sloan argued with him. "Sloan, what have you done now?"

"Nothing." Sloan spat out, glaring at Eragon. "This... boy and his tracker came in here and started badgering me. I ask the two to leave, but they won't budge. I even threatened them, and they still ignored me."

"Is this true," Horst demanded, looking at Eragon.

"No," Eragon replied. "We offered two stones as payment for some meat, and he accepted it. When I told him that we'd found them in the Spine, he refused even to touch it. What difference does it make where it came from?"

"Why won't you trade with them, Sloan? I've no love for the Spine myself, but it's a question of the stones worth, I'll even back it up with my own money."

"This is my store. I can do whatever I want." Katrina stepped out from behind Horst and confronted her father.

"Father, Eragon is willing to pay, give him the meat and then we can have supper." Sloan spun to look at his daughter.

"Go back to the house. This is none of your business. I said go." Katrina let out a hiss before walking out of the shop stiffly.

"Fine, you can deal with me. What were you going to get Eragon?"

"As much as we could carry."

"Give me your best roasts and steak. Make sure there is enough to fill two packs." Horst said while pulling coins out of his purse. Sloan hesitated at the blacksmith's command. "Not selling to me would be a terrible idea."

Sloan grumbled as he walked back into his workshop, I could soon hear the sound of meat being cut and packaged. We waited for a couple of minutes in uncomfortable silence until Sloane returned with the meat and accepted Horst's coins. Horst scooped up the meat, and we followed him out of Sloane's butcher shop.

"Thank you, Horst. Uncle Garrow will be pleased." Eragon said as he and I stuffed our packs.

"Don't thank me. I've wanted to do that for a long time. Slone's a vicious troublemaker; it does him good to be humble. Katrina heard what was happening and ran to fetch me. Good thing I came- the two of you were almost at blows. Unfortunately, I doubt he'll serve you or any of your family the next time you go in there, even if you have coins."

"I hope we didn't cause you any trouble, Horst," I said, lacing my pack shut.

"It's nothing Miss Mal, don't you worry. You get home now and take care of yourself, young lady." I smiled at Horst and slung my pack over my shoulder.

"Horst, why did Sloan explode like that? We've never been friendly, but he's always taken our money. And I've never seen him treat Katrina like that."

"Ask your uncle, he knows more about it than I do," Horst said with a shrug.

"Well, now I have one more reason to hurry home....to solve this mystery. Here, these are rightfully yours." Eragon said while offering the two stones.

"No, you keep those rocks. As for payment, Albriech plans to leave for Feinster next spring. He wants to become a master smith, and I'm going to need an assistant. You can come and work off the debt on your extra days." Eragon and I bowed in appreciation.

"Again, thank you! I look forward to working with you. Roran wanted me to give Katrina a message, but since I can't, can you get it to her?" I mentally face palmed myself. Roran was not going to like this.

"Of course."

"He wants her to know that he'll come into town as soon as the merchants arrive and he will see her then."

"That all?"

"No, he also wants her to know that she is the most beautiful girl he has ever seen and that he thinks of nothing else." Eragon's face was now beet red, and Horst had a wide grin.

"Getting serious, isn't he?"

"Yes, sir. Could you also give her our thanks? It was nice for her to stand up to her father for us. I hope she doesn't get punished because of it. Roran would be furious if I got her into trouble."

"I wouldn't worry about it, Sloane doesn't know that she called me, so I doubt he'll be too hard on her. Before you go, will you two join us for sup?"

"I'm sorry, but we can't Garrow is expecting us." Eragon and I started down the road raising a hand goodbye to Horst. Soon enough, we left the village behind and entered the grassy plains with the Spine overshadowing it. We came to a smaller, less used path and headed down it. We climbed up a small hill and stared down at a small twinkling farm. Home.


	3. Chapter Two: Luminescent

We made our way down the hill, walking through the waist-high grass. The farmhouse was pretty simple, shingles from the roof to the ground and one lone chimney in the middle. Eragon passed the barn and walked up the porch steps, knocking on the sturdy wooden door.

"Uncle, it's us. Let us in." We waited for a few seconds before the door swung open, revealing Garrow.

"Roran's asleep." Garrow curtly replied. I walked over to a wooden table that currently holds a single flickering lamp. I swung my pack off my shoulder and onto the table with a slight thunk. I began to pull the meats out of my pack and onto the table.

"What's this? Did you two buy meat? Where did you get the money?" Garrow demanded in a harsh tone.

"No, Horst bought it for us."

"You let him pay for it? I told you before. I won't beg for our food. If we can't feed ourselves, we might as well move into town. Before you can turn twice, they'll be sending us used clothes and asking if we'll be able to make it through winter." Garrow snapped back in anger.

"I didn't accept charity. Horst agreed to let me work off the debt this spring. He needs someone to help him because Albriech is going away."

"And where will you get the time to work for him? Are you going to ignore all the things that need to be done here?" Eragon and I hung our hunting equipment by the door.

"I don't know how I'll do it. Besides, we found some things that could be worth some money." Eragon said as we set the two stones on the table. Garrow scrutinized the stones in front of us with a hungry look.

"You two found these in the Spine?"

"Yes," Eragon said before explaining how the stone came into our possession.

"How was the weather?"

"Cold, froze over every night, no snow yet, though."

"Tomorrow you two will have to help Roran finish harvesting the barley. If we can get the squash picked too, the frost won't bother us." Garrow pushed the two stones back to us. "Here, you two keep these. When the traders come, we'll find out what it's worth. Selling it is probably the best thing to do. The less we're involved with magic, the better. Why did Horst pay for the meat?"

Eragon explained the argument with the butcher.

"I just don't understand what angered him so?"

"Sloane's wife, Ismira, went over the Igualda Falls a year before you were brought here. He hasn't been near the Spine since, nor had anything to do with it. But that's no reason to refuse payment. I think he wanted to give you trouble."

I held onto Eragon as he began to sway with exhaustion.

"Uncle, it is good to be back, and I do believe Eragon needs rest." Garrow softened his eyes at me as I held Eragon up. He nodded to me, and I pulled Eragon in the direction of our room. I let go of Eragon and slid the two stones under my bed before climbing under my covers and falling asleep quickly.

Morning came soon enough when sunlight streamed from my window onto my face, slowly warming it up. I flickered my eyes open and put a hand up to cover the brightly shining sun. I swung my legs over my bed and let my feet rest on the cold pine floor. Today was Eragon's birthday. He finally turned sixteen, the age where a boy became a man.

I slipped out of my bed and walked over to the plain dresser Eragon, and I shared. Since it was a special occasion, I can wear the green dress I had been saving. I pulled out the dress and stared at it, I have never worn anything as lovely as this before, and this dress was pretty dull. I quietly shut the drawer and headed for the bathroom to change. I set the dress on the counter and glanced up at the mirror. I forgot to take my headscarf off last night.

My headscarf only covered my ears and forehead. I wasn't too fond of people looking at me. I covered up as much as I could. I started to unwrap the scarf, letting my black hair fall and my pointed ears peak out. I was the only one in Carvahall who had pointed ears, thus the reason for hiding them. I don't think the people would take too kindly at my different appearance.

I've been told that my mother was an elf and my father a human explaining my semi-human, semi elf look. I inherited my mother's ears, but my eyes are only slightly slanted, giving me a more human appearance, and for that, I was thankful. I set the scarf down and began to change out of my dirty working clothes and into the clean green dress. I scrubbed my face free of any dirt and rewrapped my hair.

I went back to Eragon, and I's room just as Eragon was pulling on his boots.

"Good morning." Eragon looked up at me and did a double-take.

"You look nice today Mal, how did you get a dress that nice?" I smiled at him and did a twirl.

"It's one of Katrina's old dresses that she outgrew. She gave it to me so I could have at least one nice dress for a special occasion. Speaking of special occasions, happy sixteenth birthday Eragon." Eragon gave me a bright smile before splashing his face with water from a bowl on our nightstand. As he was splashing himself, I crouched down and pulled out the two mysterious stones.

I handed Eragon the blue stone before sitting on my bed and running my fingers over my diamond white stone. It was gorgeous, now having a closer view I could see tiny veins twisting across the surface. I watched as the sunlight refracted off the stone and shone around the room, when the time came, I don't know if I will be able to part with this stone.

"We should go and join Garrow and Roran at the breakfast table," Eragon said, placing the stone on his bed. I sighed and did the same, feeling sad to let the stone leave my hands, we left our roman headed to the kitchen where I could hear Garrow and Roran in conversation.

"Good morning." Eragon and I greeted the two. Roman stood up and gave us a big grin. Eragon helped himself to some chicken while I went with a small bunch of mixed greens.

"I'm glad you two are back, how was the trip."

"Hard, did uncle tell you what happened?" Roman shook his head at us.

"No, what happened?" Eragon preceded to tell the story. Roran perked up when Eragon described the stones.

"Can you show me?" Eragon and I hurried back to our room and picked up our stones. We showed Roran, and he stared at them in awe before we took them back to our room.

"Were you able to talk to Katrina?" Roran asked nervously.

"No, there wasn't an opportunity after the argument with Sloan. But she'll expect you when the traders come. I gave the message to Horst; he will get it to her."

"You told Horst?" Roman asked in semi fury. "That was private. If I wanted everyone to know, I would have built a bonfire and used smoke signals to communicate. If Sloane finds out, he won't let me see her again."

"Calm Roran," I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Horst will be discrete. He won't let anyone fall prey to Sloan, least of all you." We finished our meal and headed out to work in the fields, we got the last of the barley in the barn and started to gather the squash and rutabaga, beets, peas, turnips, and beans, which we packed into our root cellar. After several hours of labor, we finished, and we could stretch our worn-out muscles.

The following days we spent pickling, salting, shelling, and preparing the food for the winter. Nine days after Eragon and I got back from our trip a nasty blizzard blew from the mountains and onto the valley practically smothering it in snow. We spent the days holed up in the house, only leaving to feed the animals.

"I'm afraid the traders might not come this year, with conditions this bad. They're late as it is. We'll give them a chance and wait before going to Carvahall. But if they don't show soon, we'll have to buy any spare supplies from the townspeople." Garrow said with a deep sigh.

It was another nine days until Eragon came across the familiar ruts and hoof prints on the trail, the traders finally came. We quickly packed our surplus produce into our wagon while Garrow fastened the purse that had our year's earnings in it to his belt. I wrapped the two stones in cloth before settling them in between sacks of oats so they would not roll around.

We quickly ate breakfast before harnessing the horses to the wagon and setting out to Carvahall. It was noon by the time we reached the town. It was bustling with noise and warmth from the multiple fires. Garrow parked the wagon and picketed the horses before pulling some coins out of his purse.

"Get yourselves some treats, Roran, do what you want, only be at Horst's in time for supper. Eragon, you and Mal are coming with me so grab the stones and Mal, no refusing the coins, you've earned a treat." Garrow said before placing the coins in my hand.

Eragon and I followed Garrow through the crowd in search of Merlock's tent. I looked around and noticed that the usual cheery traders seemed weary and sported swords and daggers. What would make them get this defensive? Is that the reason why they are so late?

"And what might you sirs and lady want to look at? An amulet or a trinket for the lady?" Merck pulled out a pretty silver carved rose. "Not even three crowns, though it has come from the famed craftsmen of Belatona."

"We aren't looking to buy, but to sell." Murdock quickly covered the rose from sight.

"I see, maybe this item is of any value, you would like to trade it for one or two of these exquisite pieces. You did bring the object of consideration?"

"We have them, but we would rather show it to you elsewhere." Murdock raised an eyebrow at us but answered smoothly.

"In that case, let me invite you to my tent," Murdock said before locking up his items in a sturdy metal chest. He ushered us up to the street and into his tent. His tent was full of trinkets and baubles. "Please, seat yourselves."

We sat down at a small round wooden table in the center of the tent.

"Now show me why we are meeting in private." Eragon and I pulled out the two stones and set them on the table, Murdock suddenly got a gleam in his eye and looked at Garrow. "May I?"

Garrow nodded, and Murdock lifted the blue stone into his lap before opening a chest full of scales and tools. He weighed it and scrutinized the stone under a jewelers glass before tapping it gently with a mallet. He measured the stone and recorded the information before setting it back on the table and repeating the process with the white stone.

"Do you know what they're worth each?" Garrow shifted uncomfortably next to me before responding.

"No." Murdock grimaced at Garrow's response.

"Unfortunately, neither do I. But I can tell you think much, the white veins are the same material as the blue and other white one, but they are comprised of the same color. What material it might be, I haven't a clue. It's harder than any rock I have seen, even harder than a diamond. Whoever shaped this used tools I have never seen--or magic. Also, it's hollow."

"What?"

"Did you ever hear a rock sound like this?" Murdock said before taking out a dagger and slapping the side of it one the stone making a clear ringing noise fill the air. I immediately drew the white stone closer to me. "You will find no scratches or blemishes where the dagger struck. I doubt I could do anything to harm this stone, even if I took a hammer to it."

"But what are they worth?"

"I can't tell you that. I am sure some people would pay dearly to have them, but none of them are in Carvahall. You would have to go to one of the southern cities to find a buyer. This is a curiosity for most people-- not an item to spend money on when practical things are needed."

"Will you buy them."

"It's not worth the risk. I might be able to find a wealthy buyer during my spring travels, but I can't be certain. Even if I did, you wouldn't be paid until I return next year. No, you will have to find some else to trade it. I am curious, why did you insist on talking to me in private?"

"Mal and I found these in the Spine, folks around here don't like that," Eragon explained.

"Do you know why my fellow merchants were late this year?" Eragon and I shook our heads.

"Our wanderings have been dogged with misfortune. Chaos seems to rule Alagaesia. We could not avoid illness, attacks, and the most cursed bad luck. Because the Varden's attacks have increased, Galbatorix has forced cities to send more soldiers to the borders, men who are needed to combat the Urgals. The brutes have been migrating southeast, towards the Hadarac Desert. No one knows why and it wouldn't concern us except that they're passing through populated areas. They've been spotted on roads, and neighboring cities, Worst of all are reports of a shade, though the stories are unconfirmed. Not many people survive such an encounter."

"Why haven't we heard of this." Eragon cried.

"Because it only began a few months ago. Whole villages have been forced to move because Urgals destroyed their fields and starvation threatens."

"Nonsense," Garrow growled. "We haven't seen any Urgals; the only one around here with horns is the one mounted in Morn's tavern."

"Maybe so, but this is a small village hidden by mountains. It's not surprising that you've escaped notice. However, I wouldn't expect that to last. I only mentioned this because of the strange things happening here as well if you found such stones in the Spine." We left Murdock's tent and started to wander back to Carvahall.

"What do you think, Uncle?" Eragon asked as he and I trailed behind the glowering man.

"I'm going to get more information before I make up my mind. Take the stones back to the wagon, then do whatever you two want. I'll meet you for dinner at Horst's." We split up. Eragon and I dashed back to the wagon, hiding the stones underneath the oats. It would take Garrow hours to trade, so we had a bunch of time on our hands.

We wandered around the many tents eyeing the food and trinkets each carried. All the merchants we talked to about the unrest in Alagaesia confirmed what Murdock told us. After Eragon bought three sticks of malt candy and a small hot cherry pie, we settled down on a nearby porch and watched the people of Carvahall pass by.

"Eragon, we should leave, I just saw Sloane, we don't want any more trouble," I said standing up, he nodded at me, and we darted in the direction of Morn's tavern. We entered the tavern and inhaled the smoke from the candles and heard the chatter among men.

"Ah, Eragon, Miss Mal! Good to see you, where is Garrow?"

"Buying, he's going to be awhile."

"And is Roran around this time?"

"Yes, no sick animals to keep him back this year."

"Good, good." Eragon and I glanced at two very noisy merchants.

"Who are they?" Eragon said, pointing to the two men.

"Grain buyers bought everyone's seed at ridiculously low prices, and now they're telling wild stories, expecting us to believe them." Morn said in disgust. I shook my head at the merchants, the people here really needed that money, and they were getting duped.

"What kind of stories."

"They say the Varden have formed a pact with the Urgals and are massing an army to attack us. Supposedly, it's only through the grace of our king that we've been protected for so long. As if Galbatorix would care if we burned to the ground, go listen to them. I have enough on my hands without explaining lies."

Eragon and I headed over to the two merchants, one was portly, and the other drenched in jewels.

"No, no, you don't understand. It is only through the king's unnecessary efforts on our behalf that you can argue with us in safety. If he, in all his wisdom, were to withdraw his support, woe unto you."

"Right, why don't you tell us the Riders have returned, and you've each killed a hundred elves. Do you think we're children to believe in your tales? We can take care of ourselves." A person from the crowd yelled.

"You misunderstand. We know the Empire cannot care for each of us personally, as you may want, but it can keep Urgals and other abominations from overrunning this place. You're angry with the Empire for maltreating people, a legitimate concern, but a government cannot please everyone. There will inevitably be arguments and conflicts. However, the majority of us have nothing to complain about. Every country has some small group of malcontents who aren't satisfied with the balance of power."


	4. Chapter Three: Luminescent

I glared at the two merchants. Pompous citizens of Uru Baen, of course, they would be groveling at Galbatorix's feet. The people around me were just as irritated by the merchant's statement as I was.

"Yeah?" I heard a woman call. "If you're willing to call the Varden small."

"We already explained that the Varden have no interest in helping you. That's only a falsehood perpetuated by the traitors in an attempt to disrupt the Empire and convince us that the real threat is inside--not outside-- our borders. All they want to do is overthrow the king and take possession of our land. They have spies everywhere as they prepare to invade. You never know who might be working for them."

"How do you know this," Eragon said, stepping forward. "I can say that clouds are green, but that doesn't mean it's true. Prove you aren't lying."

"Aren't your children taught respect? Or do you let boys challenge men whenever they want to?" I felt Eragon stiffen next to me. I placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from doing anything rash.

"That is true," I said, earning the crowd's attention. "But Eragon is no boy, and I do believe that the citizens of Carvahall need some proof to believe your stories."

"Now who do you think you--" The large merchant started to say with a red face before being cut off by Morn.

"I won't be having anybody disrespecting Miss Mal in my establishment. Her words are right and true. Don't be starting a fight in my tavern." The two merchants fell silent after Morn's words and Eragon and I headed back to the bar.

"Incredible, isn't it? They're worse than vultures circling a dying animal. There's going to be trouble if those two stay." I glanced back at the two glowering merchants.

"For us, or them Morn?"

"Them." Morn spat out. Eragon and I said our goodbyes before leaving the smoky tavern and hunting down Roran. Not surprising, we found him in an alley with Katrina. Katrina kissed Roran goodbye before darting off into the shadows.

"Have a good time?" Roman grunted at Eragon as we headed for Horst's house. "Have you heard the news?"

"Yes, what do you think of Sloan?"

"I thought it was obvious." I rolled my eyes at Eragon's statement.

"There'll be blood between us when he finds out about Katrina and me." We lapsed into silence as we approached Horst's house. Dinner was loud and boisterous as usual, and the men consumed several ales. When dinner finished, we headed back out to the merchant's field and gathered around a massive bonfire. This was Eragon and I's favorite part.

There were several plays and jokes before the light's extinguished in anticipation for the storyteller. The storyteller went by the name of Brom; he was an older man with a scraggly beard and scrunched figure. Brom told a story about the Dragon Riders of old, back before Galbatorix came to power. The story made an intense feeling of sadness wash over me at the thought of slaughtered Riders and their Dragon's.

We left Carvahall behind us and rode the wagon back to the farm in a somber mood, Brom's stories were very intriguing but at the same time saddening. All those Riders and Dragons lost their lives because of one greedy Rider. When we got back to the farm, I helped Roran unharness the horses before retreating to Eragon and I's room.

When I got to my shared room, I saw Eragon already inspecting his stone with three tools spread out on the bed. I took out my stone and sat on my bed, placing the stone in my lap. The stone twinkled in my lap from the candlelight, creating tiny specs of refracted light around the room. A sudden sharp ringing filled the room, making me look up at Eragon in confusion, he was holding a mallet, and from the dining noise, he must have hit the stone.

"Eragon, I don't think you will be getting through that stone, no matter how hard you try." Eragon spared me a glance before focusing back on the blue stone. He then picked up a heavy leather hammer. "Eragon...."

Eragon hit the stone, making a mournful peal reverberate around the room, he then took a chisel to the stone and started to hammer away, not leaving one mark or blemish. As the ringing sound died down, I heard a faint squeak. I put my stone down and stared at the blue stone. Did it just squeak or did I imagine things? I put the squeak in the back of my thoughts and curled around my stone before falling asleep.

My eyes shot awake when I heard a squeak. I sat up and looked around for the source. Eragon was up as well, and I could see his hand slip under his mattress and pull out a knife. We waited for a few more minutes before slowly returning to sleep. Another squeak pierced the air and sent Eragon leaping out of his bed.

"Are you hearing what I'm hearing Mal?" I nodded at him a looked around the room, trying to find the source. I pulled out a match and lit a candle, sending soft light around the room. I searched the room until my eyes landed on Eragon's blue stone that was shaking. I heard another squeak, but this time, it was from behind me. I spun around to see my white stone doing the same thing.

"We'll worry about this in the morning Mal, go back to sleep." I hesitated before returning to my bed and staring at my white stone. I finally managed to get back to sleep before being woken again by my white stone shaking violently on my bed. I looked at Eragon with the same look of worry and confusion.

Eragon's blue stone fell off the bookshelf it has been resting on and hit the floor with a loud thump. My head immediately went to the door. Hopefully, that noise didn't wake up Garrow or Roran. I turned back to my stone and saw it shaking just as violently. We watched in silence as more squeaking came from both stones until I heard a crack and a crack appeared on the stone and a shiny white head poked through.

"Eragon, these aren't stones, their eggs." I gasped out, finally realizing what was happening. I knelt in front of my bed and watched as more cracks appeared along the surface, soon enough there was a tiny white head poking out of a hole in the egg. The creature let out another squeak before wiggling its body out of the egg and into the moonlight.

I heard a gasp from Eragon and turned to see a tiny blue creature stumbling around the floor. Eragon looked up at me in disbelief.

"Mal, these are dragons."

Eragon and I watched as our dragons stumbled around on their shaky legs, my dragon had the exact coloring of the egg but was far more beautiful. I let out a giggle making the dragon snap its head at me. Vibrant blue eyes met mine as the dragon began to stumble towards me, letting out little squeaks.

As the dragon drew closer, I held out my right hand towards its head. Just as my hand touched its head, I felt a blast of energy go through me that left me on the floor of the room in pain. I heard Eragon hit the floor next to me and assumed the same thing happened to him. After twitching for a few minutes, the pain finally receded, and I could move again.

There was a flutter of wings, my dragon coast down from my bed and land in front of me chirping. I tensed up when it nudged my hand with its head but found instead of pain there were tingles. I pulled myself off the floor and picked up the shining dragon before sitting on my bed and letting it sniff my dress. I rubbed my hand on its head before noticing a mark on my palm — the sign of a Rider.

"Mal, did you feel what I felt when I touched it?" Eragon said stumbling to his bed.

"If you're talking about the burning sensation then yes. Eragon, these are dragons, we don't know anything about caring for them, what are we going to do?" The two dragons started to let out little wails.

"We can think about it later, right now we need to get them food before they wake up Garrow and Roran," Eragon said before leaving the room. He came back shortly with strips of meat, he handed me some, and we started to feed our little dragons. When the dragons finished, they both crawled into our arms and drifted to sleep.

I headed to my bed and laid down being careful not to squish my dragon, its squeaked at me before curling into my side and falling asleep, I let my mind wander until sleep eventually overtook me.

Morning came, and Eragon and I slipped out of the house with the two dragons and several rags and leathers. We scurried across the fields until we came upon a tree for the two dragons. We made the dragons a small hutch to get out of the harsh wind. We left the two a stash of food before hurrying back to the farm.

We got rid of the eggshells before getting to work, trying to make the day pass by faster. Eragon and I discussed how we were going to hide our marks, Eragon and I decided to keep our hands dirty. When the work on the farm was completed, Eragon and I managed to snag a few sausages from the cellar before we headed out to the tree.

To our joy, both dragons were still in the tree. We checked the food supply and found that it was gone but noticed that there were feathers in the bottom of the hutch.

"They can get their own food, that's good," I said while petting my dragon, I look over to see Eragon lifting his dragon in the air, much to its displeasure. "What are you doing?"

"We don't know if they are a girl or a boy Mal, don't you want to know?"

"Yes I do, but your dragon doesn't seem to like the inspection Eragon." We walked around the forest with our dragons on our shoulder until it was time for us to return to the house. When the dragons were big enough to roam on their own, it took Eragon and I a great deal of time to enforce that the dragons couldn't follow us home.

"Mal, I think we need to find more about dragons and find names for the two, we can't keep calling them it. We need to go to Brom. I think Roran is heading to Carvahall to get a chisel repaired. We should go with him and talk to Brom."

"And what do you suggest we say Eragon, we can't exactly go up to him and say 'Hi Brom, we currently have two dragons, we were wondering if you could give us information on them and supply us with a few names'."

"Just let me do the talking as usual Mal," Eragon said with a small glare. When the day finally came, Roran, Eragon and I headed out on the wagon to Carvahall. We traveled in silence before splitting ways, Roran to the blacksmiths and Eragon and I to Brom's house. We reached the front door and Eragon raised his hand to knock but ended up hesitating.

"What do you want, boy?" Eragon spun around to face Brom who was standing slightly behind me.

"To get information. Roman is getting a chisel fixed, and Mal and I had some free time, so we came to see if you could answer a few questions." Brom grunted at Eragon and opened his door while beckoning us inside.

"You might as well come inside. We'll be talking for a while. Your questions don't seem to end."

"You have no idea," I muttered while following Eragon into the old storyteller's cottage. The door shut which descended the cabin into thick smoky darkness until a candle lit up. I saw Eragon walk over to a dusty pile of scrolls while Brom lit the fireplace

"Now, what do you want," Brom said, sitting down in a high back chair.

"Well, we keep hearing about the Dragon Riders and their supposed accomplishments. Most everyone seems to want them to return, but I've never heard tell of how they started, where the dragons came from, or what made the Riders special-- aside from the dragons."

"A vast subject to tell you about," Brom grumbled. "If I told you their whole story, we would still be sitting here when winter comes again. I will have to shorten it to a manageable length."

Brom lit his pipe before continuing.

"Now, about the Riders, or the Shur'tugal, as the elves call them. Where to start? They span countless years and, at the height of their power, held sway over twice the Empire's land. Numerous stories have been told of them, and most are complete nonsense. If you believe everything said, you would expect them to have the powers of lesser gods. Scholars have devoted entire lives separating this fiction from fact, but it's doubtful any of them will succeed. However, it isn't an impossible task if we confine ourselves to three areas specified: how the Riders began, why they were so highly regarded, and where dragons came from.

Dragons have no beginning unless it lies with the creation of Alagaesia itself. And if they have and end, it will be when this world perishes, for they suffer as the land does. They, the dwarves, and a few others are the true inhabitants of this land. They lived here before all others, strong and proud in their elemental glory. Their world was unchanging until the first elves sailed over the sea on their silver ships."

"Where did the elves come from?" Eragon interrupted. "And why are they called the fair folk? Do they exist?"

"I cannot believe you just asked such a question." I hissed at Eragon.

"Do you want your original questions answered or not? They won't be if you want to explore an ever obscure piece of detail."

"Sorry," Eragon said with a sheepish look.

"No, you're not," I replied, rolling my eyes.

"If you must know, elves are not legends, and they are called the fair folk because they are more graceful than any other races. They come from what they call Alalea, though none but they know what, or even where, it is." Brom paused to take a puff from his pipe, and I felt Eragon's eyes on me for a few seconds.

"Now, the elves were a proud race then and strong in magic. At first, they regarded the dragons as mere animals. From that belief rose a deadly mistake, a brash eleven youth hunted down a dragon as he would a stag, and killed it. Outraged, the dragons ambushed and slaughtered the elf. Unfortunately, the bloodletting did not stop there. The dragons massed together and attacked the entire elven nation. Dismayed by the terrible misunderstanding, the elves tried to end the hostilities, but couldn't find a way to communicate with the dragons.

Thus, to significantly abbreviate a complicated series of occurrences, there was a long and bloody war which both sides regretted. At first, the elves fought only to defend themselves, for they were reluctant to escalate the fighting, but the dragons' ferocity eventually forced them to attack for their survival. This lasted for five years and would have lasted much longer if an elf named Eragon hadn't found a dragon egg. Ah, I see you didn't know of your namesake."

The kettle let out a high pitched whistle, and Brom set down his pipe and poured three cups of tea. He handed Eragon and me our cups of tea before tending his own. I stared down into my teacup as the tea leaves floated around in the scalding water.

"No one knows why that egg was abandoned. Some say the parents were killed in an elven attack. Others believe the dragons purposely left it there. Either way, Eragon saw the value of raising a friendly dragon, he cared for it in secret and in the custom of the ancient language, named him Bid'Daum. When Bid'Daum had grown to a good size, they traveled together among the dragons and convinced them to live in peace with the elves. Treaties were formed between the two races, to ensure that war would never break out again, they decided that it was necessary to establish the Riders.

At first, the Riders were intended merely as a means of communication between the elves and dragons. However, as time passed their worth was recognized, and they were given ever more authority. Eventually, they took the island Vroengard for their home and built a city on it--Doru Areaba. Before Galbatorix overthrew them, the Riders held more power than all the kings in Alagaesia. Now, I believe I have answered two of your questions."


	5. Chapter Four: Luminescent

"Yes." I heard Eragon mutter lowly. It sounded like he thought it wasn't a coincidence, maybe it wasn't. "What does Eragon mean?"

"I don't know, it's ancient, I doubt anyone remembers except the elves, and fortune would have to smile greatly before you talked with one. It is a good name to have, though, you should be proud of it. Not everyone has one so honorable."

"I don't understand, where were we when the riders were created?"

"We?"

"You know, all of us," Eragon said, waving his hand around. "Humans in general."

"We are no more native to this land than the elves. It took our ancestors another three centuries to arrive here and join the Riders."

"That can't be, we've always lived in Palancar Valley."

"That might be true for a few generations, but beyond that, no. It isn't even true for you Eragon. Though you consider yourself part of Garrow's family, and rightly so, your sire was not from here. Ask around, and you'll find many people who haven't been here that long. This valley is old and hasn't always belonged to us."

I heard Eragon let out an annoyed huff and gulp his tea.

"What happened to the dwarves after the Riders were destroyed."

"No one knows, they fought with the Riders through the first few battles, but when it came clear that Galbatorix was going to win, they sealed all the known entrances to their tunnels and disappeared underground. As far as I know, not one has been seen since."

"And the dragons, what of them, surely they weren't all killed." Brom's face fell into sorrow.

"That is the greatest mystery in Alagaesia nowadays: How many dragons survived Galbatorix's murderous slaughter? He spared those who agreed to serve him, but only the twisted dragons of the Forsworn would assist his madness. If any dragons aside from Shrunken are still alive, they have hidden so well the Empire will never find them."

Eragon and I shared a look with the same question in mind. If the dragons were gone, where did our eggs come from?

"Were the Urgals here when the elves came to Alagaesia?"

"No, they followed the elves across the sea, like ticks seeking blood. They were one of the reasons the Riders became valued for their battle prowess and ability to keep the peace. Much can be learned from this history. It's a pity the king makes it a delicate subject."

"Yes, we heard your story the last time we were in town."

"Story?" Brom thundered. "If it is a story, then the rumors of my death are true, and you are speaking with a ghost. Respect the past; you never know how it may affect you."

"How big were the dragons?"

"Larger than a house, even the smaller ones had wingspans over a hundred feet; they never stopped growing. Some of the ancient ones, before the Empire killed them, could have passed for large hills. There were a select few who could manipulate their size to fit their needs, but that was exceedingly rare."

There was no possible way Eragon or I could hide two mountain-sized dragons for long. It would be impossible.

"When did they mature?"

"Well," Brom said, scratching his chin. "They couldn't breathe fire until they were around five to six months old, which was about when they could mate. The older the dragon was, the longer it could breathe fire. Some could keep at it for minutes."

"I heard their scales shone like gems."

"You heard, right. They came in every color and shade. It was said that a group of them looked like a living rainbow, constantly shifting and shimmering. But who told you that?" Eragon shifted beside me.

"A trader."

"What was his name?"

"I don't know, he was talking in Morn's, but I never found out who he was."

"I wish you had," Brom grumbled.

"He also said that a Rider could hear his dragon's thoughts."

"He was wrong, it isn't any of the stories, and I know them all. Did he sat anything else?" That was a lie, but why would Brom lie to Eragon and me.

"No, did dragons live very long?" Brom was quiet for a few minutes before responding.

"Sorry, my mind was elsewhere. Yes, a dragon will live for quite a while, forever, in fact, as long as it isn't killed and its Rider doesn't die."

"How does anyone know that?" Eragon objected. "If dragons die when their Riders do, they only live to be sixty or seventy. You said during your...narration that Riders lived for hundreds of years, but that's impossible."

"What is possible is subjective, some would say that you cannot travel through the Spine and live, yet you and Mal do. It a matter of perspective, you must be very wise to know so much at such a young age. Don't be angry; you can't be expected to know such things. You forget that dragons were magical-- they affected everything around them in strange ways. The Riders were closest to them and experienced this the most. The most common side effect was an extended life. Our king has lived long enough to make that apparent, but most people attribute that to his magical abilities. There were also other, less noticeable changes. All the Riders were stronger of body, keener of mind, and truer sight than normal men. Along with this, a human Rider would slowly acquire pointed ears, though they were never as prominent as an elf's."

"Where the dragons very smart." I wanted to snort at Eragon's comment, was he not listening?

"Didn't you pay attention to what I told you earlier? How could the elves form agreements with dumb brutes? They were intelligent as you or me."

"But they were animals!" Eragon protested much to my displeasure.

"They were no more animals than we are. For some reason the people praise everything the Riders did, yet ignored the dragons, assuming they were nothing more than an exotic means to get from one town to another. They weren't. The Riders' great deeds were only possible because of the dragons. How many men would draw their swords if they knew a giant fire-breathing lizard-- one with more natural cunning and wisdom than even a king could hope for-- would soon be there to stop the violence? Hmm?"

"Did you ever see one?"

"Nay, it was long before my time." Another lie, what was the old man hiding?

"I've been trying to recall the name of a certain dragon, but it keeps eluding me. I think I heard it when traders were in Carvahall, but I'm not sure. Could you help me?" Brom shrugged at Eragon and started to ramble off a bunch of names.

"There was Jura, Hirador, and Fundor--who fought the giant sea snake. Galzra, Briam, Ohen the Strong, Gretiem, Bemoan, Roslarb...." Brom continued until stopping after uttering one last name. "And Saphira. Was it any of those?"

"I'm afraid not. Well, Roran's probably finished with Horst. We should get back, though I'd rather not."

"What is that it? I expected to be answering your questions until he came looking. No queries about dragon battle tactics or request for descriptions of breathtaking ariel combat? Are we done?" I started to giggle at the thought, Eragon could go on forever if he wanted.

"For now, I learned what I wanted to and more. Besides, I'm sure Mal is bored out of her mind."

"Very well then," Brom said, ushering us towards the door. "Goodbye and take care, if you remember the name of that trader tell me, and you should learn a thing or two about being quiet from Mal."

"I will try, thank you," Eragon said before we headed out to Horst's forge.

"Do you think your dragon will like any of those names Eragon?"

"I hope," Eragon said, stepping over a fallen log. "Do you have a name in mind for yours?"

"I do, but I would like for my dragon to decide which name it will take." We both hurried to Horst's forge, where we met up with Roran and proceeded back to the farm.

"There was a stranger from Therinsford at Horst's today." Eragon looked at Roran with curiosity.

"What's his name?"

"Dempton." He came here to have Horst forge him some sockets."

"Doesn't Theirnsford have their own forge Roran," I asked while sidestepping a patch of ice.

"Yes, they do, but their smith isn't skilled enough to make sockets." Roman paused for a moment. "Dempton needs the sockets for his mill. He's expanding it and offered me a job. If I accept, I'll leave with him when he picks up the sockets."

Millers worked year-round and being around the giant millstones was very dangerous and often led to missing fingers or hands.

"Are you going to tell Garrow, Roran?" I asked. I wasn't sure Garrow would like the idea of Roran leaving the farm.

"Yes."

"What for? You know what he thinks about us going away. It'll only cause trouble if you say anything. Forget about it so we can eat dinner in peace."

"Eragon, it's Roran's choice."

"I can't. I'm going to take the job." Eragon halted and gave Roran a confused look.

"Why I know money is hard to come by, but we always manage to survive. You don't have to leave."

"No, I don't. But the money is for myself." Roran and I continued walking until we realized Eragon hadn't budged from his spot.

"Eragon, we are going to be late," I said with mild concern.

"What do you need it for?" Eragon demanded after a few seconds of silence.

"I want to marry," Roran said shortly.

"Katrina! Have you asked her yet?"

"Not yet but come spring, when I can raise a house I will."

"There's too much to do on the farm right now. You can't leave just yet. Wait until we are ready for planting."

"No, this is the best time for me to go, if all goes well, I'll soon be back working on the farm with a wife."

"Eragon and I wish you the best of luck Roran," I said with a smile. "But Garrow is unpredictable. I don't know how he will react."

"We will see, Mal, we will see." When we got home, Roran didn't speak a word about his plans to Garrow, but I have a feeling he will soon enough.

Eragon and I hurried along the path that led to our dragon's. This was our first visit since Eragon's dragon had spoken to him. Eragon had been freaked out by his experience and had been apprehensive about visiting. As Eragon ranted to his dragon about Roran's plans, I sat down at the base of a tree with my dragon in my lap.

"Mal." My dragon whispered in my mind.

"You need a name as well, my dragon. A strong name, fit for you, none one of those names Eragon has been listing off to his dragon, I can practically hear her laughing. I've been thinking, does Alethea feel right?" Alethea began to make a humming sound and settled in my lap for a nap. Eragon was still listing off names.

"Are you Saphira?" I smiled when she too began to hum.

"It took you a while to figure out that he was a she, Eragon." Eragon scowled at me while the three of us females laughed at him.

000000000000000

Eragon and I sprinted down the muddy path to get away from Brom, who had just seen Eragon's mark.

"Contact Saphira Eragon, we need to make a decision," I yelled before calling Alethea.

"Alethea, we have been found out by Brom, please come."

"Already on my way Mal."

Eragon burst into an empty field with me close behind. We stood there for a few seconds before our two dragons descended from the sky.

"What happened that made Eragon be in so much panic right now?" Alethea asked, brushing my hand against her snout.

"Brom saw his mark. Brom can be trusted, though, that I am sure of. We also heard some visitors in town looking for yours and Saphira's eggs."

"Raz'ac."


	6. Chapter Five: Luminescent

As Alethea whispered the name in my mind, Saphira went on a rampage letting out fierce roars and swinging her barbed tail around, destroying the wooded area around us.

"Are you up for a ride my Rider?" I looked at Alethea and nodded as I came to the same realization. Eragon climbed onto Saphira's back to calm her down.

"Enough Saphira, everything is going to be alright." Eragon bellowed before Saphira crouched down to the ground. She leaped into the air and spreading her wings. Eragon realizing that he was now airborne, was clutching to one of Saphira's spike like his life depended on it.

I returned my gaze to the ground where Alethea was waiting for me to get on. I leaped up her side and sat in the crook of her back where the saddle should be. Alethea copied Saphira, and soon we were airborne as well. Cold winds rushed by my partially covered face as we steadily rose into the air.

"I don't understand why Eragon is freaking out so much, this view is absolutely beautiful," I said while enjoying the vast expanse of land that was spread out in front of me. "I love this. You can take me riding anytime."

"Too bad Eragon thinks differently," Alethea said as she started to coast on the wind. "Saphira and I are taking you to a clearing we found in the Spine. It's near where you found our eggs."

"It's going to take some time to convince Eragon that we can't go back to the farm now," I responded as we started to coast down to an open clearing. Saphira and Alethea landed as gently as they could in the clearing, but it was still a ground-shaking landing.

Next to me, Eragon slipped off of Saphira before she had even closed her wings. Eragon's legs gave out, and he face-planted into the snow.

"He didn't ride bareback right, it was probably all his struggling," I said before slipping off of Alethea and landing in the snow with a gentle crunch of the frozen water. "His leg are going to be a mess."

I ran over to Eragon and knelled down as he peeled his pants away from his wounds.

"You rubbed all the skin off, you're not going anywhere anytime soon," I said frowning at the wounds.

"How is it that I get scraped when flying and you come perfectly fine," Eragon said, trying to sit up.

"Because I didn't move, and stayed down, we're going to spend the night here," I said while gently pushing him down, Saphira laid down next to Eragon, still trembling. Alethea sat in silence as Eragon and Saphira argued with each other before Saphira spread her wing over Eragon, time to sleep.

Alethea settled down on the ground, and I walked over to her and laid down before getting covered by Alethea's sparkling wing.

"Sleep well my Rider."

"Sleep well my dragon."

After another heated argument between Eragon and Saphira, Saphira and Alethea prepared to fly back to the farm. I watched as Eragon slowly pulled himself onto Saphira, groaning when his legs scraped against Saphira's hard scales.

"Try not to move too much Eragon," I said before Alethea launched us into the air, Saphira was soon to follow. We flew fast and lower to the ground per Eragon's wishes, trees whipped by as we neared the farm which I could see was smoking from a fire. We landed in the field and Eragon bolted to the best of his ability towards the ruined burning house.

After several minutes, Eragon and I pulled Garrow out of the burning house. He had several slashes on his body oozed and emitted a foul stench.

"We need to get him to Carvahal," I said before pulling out several wooden lumber and trying to create a contraption that could help us. A piece of cloth fell out of Garrow's pocket, and I saw Eragon angrily stuff it into his pocket before standing up and mounting Saphira.

We had almost made it to Carvahal when Saphira's wings gave out, and she landed on the ground. I slipped off of Alethea and ran over to Garrow shortly before Eragon joined me.

"Saphira, Alethea, go find a safe place to rest, we can't risk you being seen," I said, looking up at the dragons. Eragon and I started to pull Garrow slowly towards Carvahal. It wasn't long before we saw Brom running towards us with the side of his head bloody. I heard Eragon fall to the ground and immediately stopped pulling. Now I had to deal with two injured people.

"More people are coming, what happened?" Brom said, staring at Eragon's legs, I didn't respond as Horst, and a couple of other villagers ran up to us.

"Miss Mal, what happened, are you alright," Horst said as several men hoisted Eragon and Garrow's bodies into a cart.

"The farm was attacked," I whispered out, Horst frowned and hoisted my body into the cart by my waist.

"I'll send some men to check the farm out, for now, you stay with Elain. Get Eragon and Garrow to Gertrude and drop Miss Mal off at my house." Horst said before the cart lurched and started rolling to the village. When we got to Gertrude's hut, Eragon and Garrow were moved into the hut. I watched as the hut slowly disappeared into the woods, they wouldn't let me stay with them. I had to go to Horst's house where Elain was waiting.

Eragon and I made our way quietly over to the tanner's supply, Eragon gathered several, and we hurried into the forest.

"Stay here, I'll get some food," Eragon said shortly before heading off again. I leaned against the tree until Brom lumbered up to me.

"Going somewhere."

"You of all people should understand why we are leaving Brom," I said lowly before looking at the sky. "If you would like to talk to them, they are listening."

Brom looked at me in surprise before starting a conversation with the dragons.

"The old man wants to come with us."

"I figured Alethea, is Sapphira on board?"

"Yes," Alethea said before going quiet.

"Eragon isn't going to be so easily swayed Brom." Brom looked at me and sighed before muttering to himself.

"Leave that to me." He said before going quiet.

"I'll be in the air waiting for you two," I said before Alethea flew down close to me and grabbed me in her talons, I climbed my way up her side until I was sitting in my usual place by the time we had reached the height that Sapphira was coasting at.

I sat next to Brom as he stirred the oats that we had cooking.

"I've never seen Eragon this.... foolhardy," I said watching the flames spark and crackle. "Why are you helping us? I know your hiding something Brom, but I won't ask you to tell me."

"I will tell you when the time is right, Mal." Brom gruffly answered as Eragon moaned and got up from his bedroll.

"Good morning Eragon," I said while handing him a bowl of cooked oats. Eragon ate quickly before spreading out the stolen leather.

"What are you planning to do with that? We can't carry it with us."

"I'm going to make a saddle for Saphira. Mal doesn't need one."

"Mmm," Brom said. "Dragon's used to have two kinds of saddles, one for comfort and one for agility and speed."

"Do you know what they look like?"

"Better, I can make one."

"Then, please do."

"Very well, pay attention." Brom proceeded to show Eragon how to make a basic saddle when Brom was done he put the saddle on Saphira and checked the straps.

"You did a good job," Eragon said inspecting the saddle.

"One tries his best, it should serve you well," Brom said, inclining his head before walking over to sit with me on the log I had found.

"So, tell me why you don't need a saddle," Brom said, lighting his pipe.

"I can ride bareback fine, and I like not having a saddle, they feel too confining," I responded.

"You can ride bareback without shredding your legs, impressive. You will need a saddle eventually though, so you aren't shaken off." We were silent for a few minutes until Eragon headed over to us. "Will we leave tomorrow?"

"There isn't any reason to stay," Eragon said with a shrug.

"We're going to need horses."

"Maybe you do, Mal and I have our dragons."

"There isn't a horse alive that can outrun a dragon and the dragons are too young to carry two people at once."

"But that will make it harder to catch the Ra'zac," Eragon argued.

"But your chances of success are higher with me. It's late, my bone's ache. We can say more tomorrow." Brom said before going to sleep.

Brom won the argument, and the next day Eragon was packing his things onto Saphira's back.

"Brom, I'm going to go flying on Alethea if you don't mind."

"Meet us on the other side of Therinsford and stay on the lookout for trouble," Brom called before I jumped on Alethea's back and launched into the air.

Alethea dove after Saphira, Brom and Eragon had left Therinsford and were now making camp. Alethea landed next to camp as delicately as possible, and I slid off her back before walking over to Eragon and Brom. A bay and a white horse had now joined our group.

I walked up to the white horse and set my palm on his nose. I patted his nose before running my fingers through his wild mane.

"Did you run into any trouble?" I looked at Brom and shook my head.

"I mostly stayed in the air," I replied, Eragon gave me a weird look. I guess he isn't fond of riding yet. "Are these horses going to be fast enough for you?"

"We'll see soon enough," Brom replied, sitting down on an old rock and pulling out his pipe. "I took the liberty of purchasing better-traveling clothes."

Eragon handed me a package wrapped in twine before handing over a pair of brown boots.

"Why did we buy a dress?" Eragon asked, shaking his head.

"A women in pants will draw more attention than a woman in a dress, and the pants under the dress make it easier to move and ride Alethea," I replied while heading toward Alethea. "Do you mind if I change underneath your wing?"

Alethea automatically opened her wing so I could walk under it and start changing. I pulled off my dirty and worn boots before taking my dress off and pulling the leather pants on. This felt so much better already. I pulled the white dress and pulled my black hair out from under the neckline. Almost done.

I grabbed the leather corset shirt and pulled it on before I latched all of the hooks. Brom was pretty good at picking out clothes. I had mobility and protection now.

"Mal! You done?" Eragon yelled.

"Almost let me finish, or I'll never get dressed," I yelled back, I heard Eragon start to grumble while Brom chuckled. I unwrapped the messy headdress from my head and threw it down to the rest of the clothes before I wrapped my hair up into a ponytail and secured it with a leather strap, I grabbed the new simple headdress Brom had gotten and pulled it over my ears, with this type of headdress I didn't need to wrap the cloth several times around my head.

I pulled on the new tall leather boots and grabbed my discarded clothes, I lightly tapped Alethea's side, and she opened her wing, I walked out and stopped in front of Brom.

"I'm not even going to ask how you knew my size."

Brom chuckled at me while he lit his pipe.

"I picked something else up for you as well. It's in the wrapped cloth by Snowfire." I tilted my head in confusion before I walked over to the white horse and knelt down in front of the wrapped object. I unwrapped the object and began to grin with glee. Pulling the sword sheath out of the wrapping, I inspected the stitching on the side. A forest was depicted in elegant embroidery. "How do you like it?"

"I love it." I pulled the sword out of its sheath and swung it around. "It is very well balanced, thank you."

"What the hell are you doing with a sword Mal?" Eragon said, coming back from talking to Saphira.

"What else, Eragon? Protection."

"Do you even know how to use it?" I gave Eragon a small smile.

"Would you like to find out?" Brom let out a small chuckle while Eragon started to look confused.

"I don't want to accidentally hurt you, Mal."

"Trust me on this Eragon, you won't," I said stalking towards him like he was my prey. "Shall we?"


	7. Chapter Six: Luminescent

Eragon nervously turned in a circle as I prowled around him, inspecting all of his weak spots. I lunged at him, letting my sword come down at an angle. Eragon brought his red sword up in time to block my strike, but before he could take a swing at me, I ducked down and rolled behind him.

Eragon practically tripped over his feet spinning around, blocking my downward strike, our swords clashed Eragon's face twisted with early exhaustion. I quickly forced him backward until he fell onto his back. I pounced on his chest and held my dagger to his throat. Eragon was breathing heavily beneath me while I hadn't even put much energy into the fight.

"You're still too stiff." I pushed off of Eragon and looked at Brom. "You need to relax your body completely."

"I'll keep working on that," I said sighing while Eragon got up off of the ground and gaped at me.

"What was that?" He practically shouted.

"That, was you failing miserably," Brom said with a puff of his pipe. I put my sword back into its sheath and returned my dagger to my boot. "Continue your exercises after we eat dinner."

I nodded my head and crouched down in front of the fire, putting dried meat and herbs into the boiling water before stirring it. The mixture bubbled away as Eragon sat down on a log and huffed.

"How long?" I glanced up at Eragon.

"Since I was four." Eragon's face turned blue then red before returning to its original color.

"Why?"

"I...I felt the need to learn how to wield a weapon. Brom has been teaching me since."

"I hope we're going in the right direction because we'll be in trouble if we don't reach Yazuac today."

I glared at the back of Eragon's head as Cadoc trotted in the direction of Yazuac. I was giving Alethea a break from riding, and I was on the verge of regretting my choice. Riding a horse wasn't fun.

"I can hear your simmering thoughts, do you want me to pick you up?" I smiled at Alethea's voice.

"No, you need to build up your wing strength, I'll be fine. How's the weather up there?"

"Pleasant, there is a slight wind that feels nice when Saphira and I coast around."

"Well, enjoy the beautiful weather, we should be reaching Yazuac by nightfall, we can stock up and depart quickly. Tell Saphira that her rider needs to have more faith in Brom."

"I will, enjoy your ride on the small animal."

"I am most definitely not enjoying this, I will talk to you tonight," I replied before returning my attention to Brom and Eragon.

"Mal stay here, I don't like the feeling of this." I let out a little growl before dismounting Cadoc.

"Fine." Eragon and Brom headed towards Yazuac while I made camp out of sight with the company of Alethea and Saphira. It wasn't long before Saphira let out a roar. "Saphira go, lead them back here."

Saphira launched her body into the air and flew fast in the direction of Yazuac while Alethea and I paced around the small campfire. After a few minutes, Alethea started to growl and shake.

"What's wrong?" I said, placing a hand on her flank, Alethea filtered Saphira's sight into my mind, and I let out a hiss. "Urgal's, they killed the entire village, Brom's hurt, and Eragon almost killed himself. I knew that village didn't feel right."

"Saphira is carrying Brom while Eragon handle's the horses." I waited for Saphira to landed near the camp. I ran up to her just as Brom slipped off her back.

"I knew I had a bad feeling," I muttered before I helped Brom sit down near the fire. "You bled through that bandage pretty quickly, let me fix you another one."

I boiled a rag in water and dried it before untying Brom's current bandage, the cut was oozing blood but seemed to have slowed down. I rewrapped his arm and fixed our meager dinner.

I stirred the pot of dried oats as Brom and Eragon conversed about what they had learned about while in Terim. I hadn't gone, the fewer people who saw my face, the better. Eragon left the camp to head to the stream nearby.

Since Brom and Eragon's return, Eragon was quieter than usual. Our next stop was Dras Leona, the information that Brom and Eragon had collected pointed to the city. I refused to step foot in that city, it was too close to the enemy, so I elected to stay with the dragons. I think I've spent more time with the two dragon's then with Brom and Eragon, Eragon was slightly irritated, but Brom was okay with it. All the time I spent with Alethea, ended up being well spent, which is how I found out that my dragon could change to any size it had previously been.

Brom and Eragon had fled Dras Leona faster than I could have blinked, Saphira went to check on them while I pitched camp, since we were this close to Dras Leona I couldn't risk lighting a fire. Brom and Eragon entered our little cave, looking weary.

"How did they find us so quickly," Eragon said with mild irritation.

"A palace servant told me that there are spies everywhere, one of them must have tipped the Raz'ac off about our location within the city," Brom replied scratching his chin.

"We can't go back to Dras Leona, can we."

"Not for a few years."

"Then we should draw the Raz'ac out of Dras Leona. If they see Saphira, they will come running to where ever we are."

"That wouldn't work Eragon," I said, playing with baby-sized Alethea. "They'd bring soldiers with them. They would outnumber us greatly."

"Tonight will be the most dangerous for us," Brom said stiffly. "The Raz'ac will be hunting us in the dark when they are the strongest."

"We'll be trading watches then?" I sighed. "Wonderful."

"Mal, if the Raz'ac come, do not let them see Alethea, right now the empire only thinks there is one dragon against them, I want to keep it that way for as long as possible."

"Right, I'll take the first watch," Eragon said, standing up. Eragon's brow furrowed as he cautiously walked towards the exit of the cave.

"What is it?" Brom said sharply.

"I don't know, I thought I saw something, it must have been a bird," Eragon said right before he pitched forward and Saphira let out a roar. I shoved Alethea into my pack and pushed it behind me as the Raz'ac entered the cave.

Brom leaped to his feet, drawing his sword as I did the same. One of the Raz'ac lunged at Brom while the other started to walk towards me. I brought my sword in front of me and narrowed my eyes. The Raz'ac studied me for a second before lunging forward. I brought my sword up and slashed, my blade met the Raz'ac's with a ring.

"Fiessssty, our master would like you." I kicked the Raz'ac away from me in disgust. We continued the fight until Brom's falling form distracted me enough to get in the hold of the Raz'ac. I wiggled around until the Raz'ac held a knife to my throat. I stopped moving, breathing hard as I saw both unconscious Eragon and Brom. "That'ssss better."

"What do you want from us." I hissed out. The Raz'ac hissed and clicked in laughter before cutting my neck lightly with the knife. "That was uncalled for."

I pushed myself away from the Raz'ac surprisingly and staggered around as my sight became blurry. The cave became fuzzy before I felt my body hit the ground and left me with one thought — the knife.

When consciousness finally came to Eragon, he opened his eyes and stared at the campfire in front of him. His hands were still tied, but the drug had finally cleared his system, and he could think clearly.

"Saphira, are you injured?"

"No, but you and Brom are."

"Wait, what about Mal and Alethea?"

"Mal is still passed out from whatever the Raz'ac gave her and Alethea is still hiding in her rucksack."

"So they didn't find Alethea?"

"No." A surge of relief flooded Eragon's body as he wiggled to his knees.

"You didn't make that fire, did you. And you couldn't have gotten out of those chains by yourself."

".......No."

"I didn't think so," Eragon replied before looking at the stranger sitting across the fire. The stranger was watching Saphira wearily. "Who are you?"

"Murtagh." The stranger said lowly.

"Why did you help us?"

"You aren't the only enemies the Raz'ac have. I was tracking them."

"You know who they are?"

"Yes." Eragon got his feet before glaring at the ropes wrapped around his hands.

"Jierda." Eragon barked at the ropes before they snapped off.

"I would have helped you and the girl earlier, but the dragon won't let me near you two."

"Her name is Saphira and don't let Mal hear you calling her a girl, she'll punch you in the face," Eragon said before turning to Saphira. "Now let him by, I can't do this alone, besides he saved our lives."

Murtagh glanced wearily at Saphira before walking over to the dark-haired girl named Mal, he picked her up and set her near the fire. He then turned to Brom and frowned.

"How is he?" Eragon asked hobbling to Brom's side.

"Bad, the knife went right between the ribs. You can look at him in a minute, but first, we need to see how much damage the Raz'ac did to you." Murtagh said before helping Eragon remove his shirt to inspect his ribs. "Ouch!"

"Yeah, ouch." A blotchy bruise extended across his chest and skin was broken in places. Murtagh put his fingers to the injury and pressed lightly. Eragon let out a hiss and Saphira growled.

"I think you have some ribs broken. It's hard to tell, but at least two, maybe more. You lucky you're not coughing up blood."

"Yes, I'm lucky," Eragon said before kneeling next to Brom and uncovering his wound.

"I wouldn't do that," Murtagh said but was completely ignored. Eragon put his hand over the wound as Saphira poured her energy into him.

"Waise Heill," Eragon commanded, his palm lit up and Brom's wound healed itself.

"Is he completely healed?" Murtagh exclaimed in surprise.

"I can only mend what's on the surface. I don't know enough to mend what's on the inside. I've done all I can." Eragon said before hobbling next to Mal and healing the light scratch across her throat.

"You need to eat. I'll make some soup," Murtagh said before getting up and heading to the fire.

I let out a small groan as my head throbbed with pain, what exactly happened again. I put a hand to my head as I pulled myself into a sitting position. Saphira rubbed her head against my side with worry in her eyes. My own eyes widened when I remember what had happened.

"Those groveling, foul-mouthed, idiotic insects," I screeched startling Eragon and the stranger next to him. "I am going to skin them alive!"

"Mal, calm down," Eragon said soothingly.

"Do not tell me to calm down Eragon." I hissed, pointing my finger at him.

I got to my feet and let out angry huffs while I looked around. My eyes fell on Brom's prone figure, and I immediately ran over to him and knelt. I placed my hand down on the revealing skin and hissed with anger. Brom must have gotten stabbed.

"Eragon, what happened," I said in a low voice before looking up at him.

"Murtagh is tracking the Raz'ac too, he came across us and drove the two Raz'ac out and in the process, Brom got stabbed."

"Did they find...." Eragon shook his head at me.

"I am here my rider. I haven't left your rucksack." I let out a sigh of relief while Murtagh looked at me in confusion.

"I hid my pet in my bag, I didn't want the Raz'ac to find her, she means the world to me," I said looking at my bag. "Alethea, I don't want Murtagh to know you're a dragon just yet, Brom said the fewer people who know, the better."

"As much as I dislike the idea, you are right my rider. I will stay hidden."

"Mal?" I pulled my thoughts away from Alethea and looked at Eragon.

"Yes?"

"Murtagh made some soup, you need to eat," Eragon said gesturing to the small fire. "Mal, you need to eat."

I sighed and stood up, brushing off the dirt from my dress.

"I will eat, but we can't stay here, the Raz'ac will be back with reinforcements. We need to be far from this place by the time they get here."

"You two might be able to travel," Murtagh said, looking at Brom. "But he can't."

"Saphira can carry him if we make a litter," I said before starting to pack up. Murtagh made the litter while Eragon and I packed up our gear, once Brom was strapped on the litter, Saphira took flight and carried him into the darkness.

"I never thought I would see a sight like that." Murtagh with an odd tone.

"Thank you for helping us, but it is probably in your best interest to steer clear of us," I said while gently putting my rucksack that held Alethea on my back. "We seem to attract trouble."

"Pretty speech, but where will you go," Murtagh said, looking at me while he put the fire out. "Is there a place nearby that you can rest in safety?"

I scowled at Murtagh and prepared Snowfire's saddle for our hasty escape.

"I think I'll accompany you until you are both out of danger," Murtagh said before pulling himself up into his saddle.

"Men," I grumbled before I let out another sigh and pulled myself up onto Snowfire's back, Murtagh had obviously heard my muttered complaint because there was a small smirk on his face.

Eragon mounted Cadoc, and we took off into the wilderness. After riding several miles, Eragon led us to a sandstone formation where Saphira was currently sitting with a pleased look on her face. After we got everyone into the cave, Saphira lumbered in.

We set Brom on the cave floor and tried to get him to drink some water, but he wasn't having any of it. I sat down beside him and rested my head against the cold rock wall while Murtagh and Eragon got a small fire going, and soon enough I drifted to sleep while Eragon and Murtagh whispered to each other.


	8. Chapter Seven: Luminescent

"Wake!" I immediately shot up from my sleeping position at Alethea's word. "Brom!"

I looked over to Brom and saw him convulsing, I shot to my feet and ran over to Brom and tried to hold him down. I tried to push his shoulder's down, but the old man was struggling too much.

"Eragon! Get up." I yelled back at the drowsy boy. "Eragon! Its Brom, I can't hold him down all by myself."

Eragon quickly got up and ran over to me with Murtagh at his heel's. Eragon and Murtagh held Brom down as I put the back of my hand on his forehead.

"He's too hot, Eragon water." Eragon let Brom go and came back with a soaking rag. I grabbed the cloth and wiped Brom's sweaty face until he stopped thrashing around. Eragon sat back on his haunches and stretched his torso with a wince. "We should check your ribs."

Before Eragon could respond, Brom's eyes shot open and latched onto Eragon.

"Bring me the wineskin!" Brom rasped out.

"Brom, that will make you worse."

"Bring it, boy." Brom snapped at Eragon, Eragon looked at me with uncertainty, I nodded my head and Eragon started to rummage through our saddlebags.

"I can't find it!"

"Here, take mine," Murtagh said, handing his wineskin over, Eragon grabbed it and ran back over to Brom and me.

"I have it."

"Good, wash my right hand with it."

"What?" Eragon asked in confusion, I grabbed the wineskin from Eragon and started to clean Brom's right hand. Brown dye began to wash off of him palm until a gedway ignasia shone on his palm.

"Dragon Rider," I whispered looking back at Brom.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Eragon said softly.

"Because there was no need to. Don't let Galbatorix do what he did to me; life without your dragon is hardly worth living and Eragon."

"Yes?"

"Promise me that you won't let Galbatorix lay a single finger on Mal, she is of too much importance to fall into the hands of the empire."

"I promise," Brom smiled weakly and looked at the cave ceiling.

"And now for the greatest adventure." Eragon stayed by Brom's side long after he took his last breath.

"We need to get moving Eragon," I said gently as I possibly could, but he refused to move. "Eragon, we can bury him, but we need to leave as soon as possible."

"We might be seen," Murtagh said to me with a frown.

"I don't think Eragon will care at this point," I said before starting to pull Brom's body out of the cave, Murtagh let out a sigh and helped me pull Brom out onto the sandstone.

"We can't dig a grave out of stone," Murtagh stated plainly.

"I can, moi stenr," Eragon commanding the stone to make a vault for Brom. Eragon refused to leave the vault for the rest of the day, so Murtagh and I gave up trying to get him back to the cave. We both sat down in front of the small fire and stared at the flickering flames.

"Come here," Murtagh said as he started to dig around in his pack. I stared at him, reservation in my eyes. He sighed. "Your neck, it was never cleaned."

Biting my lip, I inched over until I was withing his reach. Murtagh pulled out a jar and dipped a rag into it before turning to me. I looked up so he could have access to my neck. With hands far more gentle then I expected, he started to rub the cloth along my neck.

"Is he always this reckless with his life?" Murtagh said after a few moments of silence. I smiled sadly as I stared up at the ceiling of the cave.

"Unfortunately, he's been like this for his whole life. Sometimes it feels like he's ten years behind me instead of two." I replied quietly as my neck stung briefly.

"How old are you exactly?"

"You know it's not polite to ask a lady her age," I said laughing while an endearing blush appeared on his face. "But, since I am no lady.....eighteen, I am eighteen."

Eragon pocketed the few coins we had earned from selling Cadoc, his horse. It wasn't ideal, but we needed the coins, I ended up riding with Murtagh on his horse Tornac since Snowfire had most of the equipment attached to his saddle. We had some close calls with soldiers along our way to Gil'ead but ended up safely beyond Uru'baen's reach.

"There are horses close by." Eragon hissed quietly before Murtagh, and I tensed up. An angry snarl came from my right, and I ducked in time, the attacking Urgal's club missing my head by inches.

"Where did they come from," I yelled while dodging another incoming club. Murtagh and I ended up back to back before I heard Eragon scream.

"Fly Saphira!" At Eragon's scream, Murtagh threw me on Snowfire before mounting Tornoc and forcing me to ride away from the battle scene. We rode hard for a few minutes before slowing down to a trot.

"I can't believe I just left him," I whispered at Saphira landed angrily next to me. "I have to go get him.

"No, you're going to get yourself killed," Murtagh replied sternly. "I'll go back for him."

"I will go back as well, find us a safe place to go for a few minutes little one. We will meet you there when we leave the city." I looked up at Saphira and let out an angry huff before a loud, indignant squeak could be heard from my pack.

"Do what my sister asks my rider." I sighed when Alethea agreed with Saphira and Murtagh.

"Fine, but if you get hurt I will kill you myself," I said glaring at Murtagh and Saphira. "Got it?"

They both nodded with small smiles before I kicked Snowfire and started to gallop in the opposite direction of Gil'ead with Tornoc in tow.

I found a clearing big enough for Saphira and slipped off of Snowfire.

"If you want to get out and stretch your wings, Alethea, now would be a good time," I said, twisting my neck to look at my rucksack. Alethea's sparkling head appeared before the rest of her body flew out of my bag and into the air, growing every second until she was back to her size and soaring through the sky.

Alethea flew for almost an hour before she suddenly shot down towards me and slipped into my rucksack. I saw Saphira's massive form land in the clearing as she shook with exhaustion.

"Saphira!" I dashed towards the worn out dragon and saw several arrows in her wing's. Eragon and Murtagh groaned and slipped off her back in a heap.

"Help your kin first little one." I furrowed my brow before I leaped up her side until I reached the saddle where a severely wounded elf was strapped. "I can feel the connection, you and the elf have ties with each other."

"We need to get those arrows out of her wings soon Eragon. We need to make a hasty exit." Eragon nodded at me and walked over to the bleeding wing.

"Murtagh, hold her wing down while I remove the arrow." Murtagh went over to Saphira's side and held her wing down as Eragon broke the head of the arrow off to make a cleaner extraction. "Hold on."

Eragon yanked the arrow out of Saphira's wing, causing her wing to slip out of Murtagh's hands and clipped him in the jaw as she whimpered.

"She caught me by surprise."

"She didn't mean to," Eragon replied before sealing the wound. "Mal, take Saphira and the elf and fly to safety."

"Get moving boy's," I shouted before Saphira flew into the air. We sailed until Eragon contacted Saphira that they needed to stop. Saphira glided down to an area where a stream was bubbling at the base of a cliff. I unstrapped the elf and Saphira helped me lower her to the ground.

"Saphira, she should have awakened by now," I said frowning while feeling her forehead.

"Indeed, little one."

"I have to heal her."

"And you will," I smiled when Alethea joined our conversation. It was a few minutes before Eragon and Murtagh rode into the camp with exhaustion. They both dismounted and walked over to where I was kneeling.

"As far as I know, she's the first elf the king has captured. Ever since they went into hiding, he's been looking for them without success, until now. Were Galbaorix's men able to extract the elves' location before we rescued her?" Murtagh said with a frown.

"We will find out when she wakens," Eragon replied, looking at me with a frown. "Is something bothering you, Mal?"

"You know the answer to that already Eragon," I replied shortly before brushing dried blood away from her face while I felt Murtagh's eye's on me. "We need to make her a bed."

The boy's stretched out a blanket before moving the elf when she was on the ground again. I lifted her torn sleeve to reveal a severely bruised arm, riddled with cuts. I gently rolled her onto her back and unlaced the back of the shirt to expose her back.

"Eragon!" Eragon and Murtagh ran over to me at sucked in a breath when they saw the elf's back.

"Can you heal this?" Murtagh said slowly.

"I don't know. There is so much."

"I refuse to let her die Eragon." I snapped at Eragon, who paled at my unusual anger.

"This will take time, I need food and rags boiled in water, I can't heal everything," Eragon said after a few seconds.

"We can't risk a fire, unwashed rags, and cold food will have to do," Murtagh replied before Eragon set his hand on the elves spine. I placed my hand on his shoulder while Saphira, Alethea, and I poured our energy into Eragon. We remained like this until dawn, the elves wounds were healed to the extent Eragon, and I could do. Eragon trembled and sat back with exhaustion while Saphira nudged him soothingly.

"Will she live?"

"I don't know, elves are strong, but even they cannot endure abuse like this with impunity. If I knew more about healing, I might be able to revive her. We better get moving again."

"What? No, you must sleep." Murtagh protested.

"As absurd as it sounds, Eragon is right, we cannot afford to stay here much longer," I said while lacing the elves shirt back up. "Eragon you're going to have to sleep in the saddle."

Murtagh sighed before reluctantly giving in.

"In that case, I'll lead Snowfire while you rest," Murtagh said before helping me strap the elf onto Saphira's back.

We made camp in the shadows of the Beor mountains after a weary trek through Hadarac desert. I pulled the elf off of Saphira's back as I have several times before while Murtagh went off to hunt. It was now that it was safe for Alethea to leave my pack and go flying.

"Go eat some gazelle but don't get caught by Murtagh." Alethea's little head bumped my chin before she jumped off my shoulder and headed into the sky. Saphira settled down next to where I laid the elf and let out a puff of smoke.

"I am sorry little one." I leaned back against Saphira's side, confused by Saphira's words.

"What for Saphira? You haven't done anything."

"You and my sister have to live a life in hiding while Eragon and I are free to roam the sky's."

"It's not your fault Saphira once we get to the Varden I can hopefully find a safe place for us to train." Saphira gave me a look with her beautiful blue eyes before setting her head down. I stared at the flames until Alethea came back and darted into my bag.

"The boy returns."

"Did you get enough time to stretch your wings and eat?"

"I did my rider, at this size I require less food, and I don't mind riding around in your bag," Alethea said before curling up to sleep. True to Alethea's words Murtagh came back to camp dragging a gazelle behind him.

"We can eat well tonight," Murtagh said, dropping the gazelle before looking at me. "Is everything alright, Mal?"

"Oh, I'm fine Murtagh, I just have a lot of things on my mind, Eragon, Saphira, Alethea, the elf....."

"Alethea?" I glanced up at Murtagh in a slight panic. "She's your pet, right?"

"Yes, she is the most precious thing in my life right now, I'm afraid that if the Empire gets their hands on her, she will be killed." Murtagh sat down next to me and took out his dagger, playing with it.

"Why is the Empire after you?"

"I wish I could tell you, but I am unaware of the reasons for Galbatorix's efforts." I lied, turning my head to look at the dark-haired boy/man. I frowned, annoyed with myself. "Your chin needs cleaning."

Murtagh stopped playing with the knife and looked at me while I wet a rag and headed over to him.

"She got you good," I muttered, cleaning the scratch, it hadn't bled much, but the skin was pretty torn up. "But it looks clean."

"Why is it that you wear that head wrap, was the desert not hot enough for you?" I let out a little snort and hit his shoulder.

"Well, I've been wearing one since I was a baby, it's just a habit, I guess." Murtagh's brow furrowed at me while he studied.

"Whatever you're hiding behind that demonic head wrap, I'm sure it won't affect how you look," Murtagh said with a small smile.

"What? My dirty housewife look?" I laughed while Murtagh shook his head at me and stood up.

"You will still look just as beautiful as you are now," Murtagh said before walking off while my face went beet red and Saphira let out a dragon's version of a chuckle.


	9. Chapter Eight: Luminescent

I watched Arya as Saphira flew off to hunt. We were headed into the Beor mountains, and Murtagh and Eragon had gotten into a fight yesterday which Saphira ended up splitting the two from each other. The two were being stiff with each other, and it was driving me crazy.

As the horses drank from the spring, we were currently stopped at Eragon and Murtagh stiffened and drew their swords. I stood up and brushed the dirt from my dress before walking to where the two boys were.

"We are going to have company. If there's a fight, we'll have to kill enough of them to convince them that we are not worth the trouble," Murtagh said lowly. The group finally reached us, bandits. The leader came forward on his horse and twirled his mace.

"Well, these are better than the dregs we find, and one of them is a girl! At least we got lucky this time. And we didn't even have to shoot them. Grieg will be pleased." The leader said, looking at me with a greedy look. As I stepped backward, Murtagh and Eragon stepped in front of me and blocked the leader's view of me. "Now, as for you two boy's, if you would be so good as to drop your weapons, you'll avoid being turned into living quivers by my men."

"Who are you, and what do you want?" Murtagh said, twirling his sword. "We are free men traveling through this land. You have no right to stop us."

"Oh I have every right, and as for my name, slaves do not address their masters in that manner unless they want to get beaten." I heard Eragon let out a few curses. "Throw down your swords and surrender."

"Tokenbrand, this one is an elf." One of the bandits said, lifting the blanket covering Arya. I let out a hiss and lunged at the man who dared to touch my kin. I was yanked back by one of the slaves, and a dagger went to my throat.

"This one's feisty, she'll bring in lots of gold." I let out another hiss and wiggled, trying to get out of his grasp. "Now sweetheart, don't do that, you wouldn't want to be cut by my knife now would you?"

I stopped moving and glared daggers at the leader who just smiled even more. I saw Eragon nod at Murtagh who slammed his elbow into the nearest slaver before kicking Tornac in the side making the horse rear and kick. I took this as my cue to get out of my slaver's hold.

I stomped on the slavers foot, making him howl in pain before I snapped my head back into his face. The slavers hands let me go and went to his now broken nose. I pulled out my sword from underneath my dress and kicked the slaver backward.

Saphira finally arrived and roared at the men who in turn, spun around and fled our campsite. In the chaos, I saw Tokenbrand's head go tumbling to the ground, well now at least I don't have to waste the energy to kill him.

"Is your brain rotten? Why did you kill him?" Eragon shouted in Murtagh's face.

"I don't see why your so upset," Murtagh said, cleaning the blood from his blade as I walked up to the decapitated body.

"Upset, I am beyond upset. Did it even occur to you that we could leave him here and continue on our way? No! Instead, you turn into an executioner. He was defenseless."

"Eragon." I snapped. "Control yourself, killing him was the best solution, the fewer people who know about you and Arya, the better. You need to start thinking about staying alive, remember? We can't show mercy to everyone we cross, or we'll get ourselves killed!"

Saphira snarled at the Urgals in front of us, attempting to ward them off. Eragon suddenly put Zar' ac back into its sheath.

"The Varden are on the other side of the lake. We have to go through the waterfall!"

"And how are we supposed to get the horses there Eragon." I snapped back.

"I'll convince them to follow, and Saphira can carry Arya," Eragon yelled back, Murtagh cut Arya away from the saddle and heaved her onto Saphira's back before securing her. Snowfire and Tornoc whinnied and jumped into the lake and began to swim underneath the waterfall.

I sheathed my sword and dashed to the edge of the lake and jumped into the cold water. I swam into the waterfall, struggling to get through the pounding water. I kept struggling until a hand wrapped around my wrist and pulled me out of the waterfall and onto a rock floor.

I coughed up some water before I was roughly grabbed and pulled to my feet by a man who looked furious. He dragged me over to where Saphira was crouched down. I twisted back to see Murtagh being treated in the same fashion. We were both shoved next to each other with daggers at our throats. I snuck a glance at Murtagh who happened to do the same thing, and I shot him an apologetic look which he just shrugged at.

"Stop! If you use magic, I'll kill you lovely friends over here who was so kind to mention that you're a Dragon Rider." A bald guy shouted at Eragon.

"Great observational skills, because you know, the dragon behind us isn't a big enough hint," I said with a snort. The bald man snapped to me and glared at me while I just gave him an innocent smile.

"Everyone inside now!" Murtagh and I were pulled into the tunnel while Eragon slowly followed. Once everyone entered big stone doors shut, cutting us off from the lake. "This way."

"There's an injured...." Eragon began to say before he was cut off by a sharp gesture from the bald man.

"Do not speak! You must be tested, remove your weapons, and slide them to me." I unclipped my sword belt and tossed it in front of me while a dwarf did the same for Murtagh. "Now step away from your dragon and slowly approach me."

Eragon moved forward with confusion until he in front of the bald man.

"Stop there, drop your defenses around your mind, and allow me to look at your memories."

"Why?"

"To be sure that you aren't working for Galbatorix."

"There isn't time, she needs a healer," I yelled at the bald idiot.

"Silence." The bald man yelled at me. "Until tested, your words mean nothing."

"She's dying, you fool." I snarled back.

"It can wait."

"Are you blind Egraz Carn? Can't you see that's an elf on the dragon? We cannot keep her here if she's in danger; the king and Ajihad will have our heads if she is allowed to die." A dwarf yelled at the bald man.

"Very well, quickly, quickly." Arya was unstrapped from Saphira and carried away. "You have some explaining to do."

"She was poisoned with the Skilna Bragh. She needs Tunivor's nectar."

"Take her to the healers and tell them what she needs," Baldy said irritated. "We've wasted enough time. It's time for your testing."

"You better not hurt him or Adjihad will have your head." The dwarf said before leaving the room.

"Only if he resists," Baldy said with a twisted smile before turning back to Eragon who started to twitch, this went on for a few minutes before Eragon started to fall but got caught before he hit the ground.

"You went too far! He wasn't strong enough for this." A dwarf barked at Baldy.

"He'll live, that's all I needed.

"What did you find?" Baldy hesitated. "Well is he to be trusted?"

"He is not your enemy." Eragon let out a deep breath before the bald man turned to me.

"Now it's your turn." I stiffened at the glee in his voice.

"Alethea! Hide everything important. You, Murtagh, my heritage. He can't know."

"Do not fear my Rider. I will protect those memories." I let out a sigh at Alethea's response, mine and Murtagh's secrets were safe. Saphira let out a growl when the bald man approached me. He gave her a side glance before returning his attention to me.

I let out a small gasp as the bald man dived harshly into my mind and started to rifle through my memories; he wasn't gentle about it at all. He poked hard at the memories of my childhood. I grew irritated by his harshness. I pushed him back out of my memories and my head.

"You will let me complete the testing." He hissed at me. I returned a glare.

"Then be gentle!"

His eyes darkened, and he forced his way into my mind again, but this time, he prodded with so much force I started to see stars. My legs shook as I struggled to stand but grew weaker every time he dove into a new memory until they collapsed altogether. I faintly heard Eragon and Murtagh yelling, but I couldn't decipher what they were saying.

"The bald man went past too far." Alethea screeched in my head. "Rest now, my rider, it is over."

"Thank you, Alethea," I whispered back before drowsiness took over and everything faded to black.

Eragon and Murtagh looked at Mal feeling helpless as she started to sway on her feet before she pitched to the side, surprising the guard holding her who let her drop to the ground, blood began to trickle out of her nose. Saphira let out a deafening roar and bared her razor-sharp teeth at the bald man.

"You're supposed to look at the memories, not destroy them." Orik snarled at the bald man who glared back. "Is she our enemy, or have you torn into her mind for nothing."

".......She is not our enemy." Orik swore again while Eragon and Murtagh blew steam and turned red with fury. Saphira let out another angry roar at the bald man before turning to Mal and nudging with her nose with a small whine. "Now it's your turn."

Murtagh's eyes left Mal's prone body and glared at the bald man as he started to try and break his mental wall. The two glared at each other while they battled in their minds, Orik scowled at the two before he tore the bald man away from Murtagh.

"How dare you." The bald man screeched. "You question my leadership, opened the gates without permission, and now this! You've shown nothing but insolence and treachery. Do you think your king will protect you now?"

"You would have left them to die. We don't have any right to torture them for information. Adjihad won't sanction it. Not after you examined the Rider and found no faults and they've brought us, Arya." Orik growled back.

"Would you allow him to enter unchallenged? Are you so great a fool as to put us all at risk?"

"Can he use magic?"

"That is..." The bald man started.

"Can he used magic?"

".....no."

"Then what do you fear? He can't escape, and he can't work any devilry with all of us here, especially if your powers are as great as you say. But don't listen to me, ask Adjihad what he wants to be done."

"Leave now!" The bald man snapped at the warriors in the room. "Because I was unable to complete the testing you and your friends will remain here for the night. He will be killed if he attempts to leave."

Eragon and Murtagh immediately went to Mal's still prone body as soon as the mage and the guards left the room.

"Saphira what did he do to her mind?" Eragon asked as Murtagh wiped the blood away from Mal's face.

"He was too harsh and has damaged many memories, Alethea hid the memories Mal wished to be not seen."

"What did he do?" Murtagh growled after Eragon and Saphira finished conversing.

"Saphira says that he was too harsh and damaged a lot of her memories, Mal didn't let him see anything important, and she paid for it."

"She will awaken when she is ready, little one," Saphira said gently to Eragon. Eragon sighed before turning to Murtagh.

"Saphira says she will wake up when she's ready, and I don't think she would appreciate being left on the floor." Eragon and Murtagh set up a makeshift bed near Saphira before sitting down next to her.

"Thank you for not betraying me Eragon."


	10. Chapter Nine: Luminescent

My head ached like someone had repeatedly taken a smithing hammer to it. I tried to remember what had happened that put me in this state, but everything was still fuzzy, and it was hard to think straight. I tried to sit up but found that it was a bad idea when my head started to swim even more. I raised my arm to my head and winced when my hand made contact. I dislike that bald man.

A warm hand grabbed my hand and gently pulled it away from my pounding head. I flickered my eyes open to see a blurry Murtagh.

"You're......blurry," I mumbled out trying to lift my head, but my head just dropped back down onto the soft thing I was using as a pillow. "Why....is everything.....so blurry?"

"When he looked in your head he left behind some damage," Murtagh said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. "You've been out for quite a while."

"Someone.....skewer that....bastard." Murtagh let out a small laugh as a figure walked towards us.

"Mal, are you okay to move?" I tried to push myself to a standing position, ignoring the pain the action caused.

"Yes." I took a step forward, and my balance was thrown off by my vision, sending me tumbling into Murtagh. "Okay, maybe not. I still can't see right."

I saw a blurry Eragon put a hand on my forehead.

"Eragon, you can't heal this, it will heal itself.....eventually."

"So you're just going to walk around like this until it heals? Mal, you can't even walk without falling."

"Eragon, you know I'm right." I chided as Eragon let out a hiss of frustration.

"Fine, we'll see if the Varden can help since it's their fault," Eragon replied bitterly as I heard doors open and several feet enter them chamber we were in.

"You have been summoned to Ajihad, leader of the Varden. If you must eat, do so while we march." It was the bald rat-man.

"Where are our horses? And can I have my sword and bow back?"

"Your weapons will be returned when Ajihad sees fit, not before. As for your horses, they await you in the tunnel. Come!"

"How is Arya?" I said to the bald rat-man.

"I do not know. The healers are still with her." Bald rat-man responded. I pushed myself away from Murtagh and tried to walk over to Eragon, but on my first step, I pitched to the side. Dammit. Murtagh caught me again, and this time swung me up into his arms.

"No more walking until you can see straight." I let out a groan and let my head fall onto Murtagh's shoulder.

"I hate feeling helpless," I grumbled as he started walking towards the horses.

"You will ride single file down the center of the tunnel, if you attempt to go anywhere you will be stopped."

"It's not like I'm going anywhere bald rat-man," I said tiredly, I could feel his anger radiating from his body. Murtagh put me on Tornac first before swinging up behind me. "Respect the disabled."

I felt Murtagh's silent laughter on my back and grinned.

"Why you little...."

"Enough!" A dwarf barked. "We have somewhere to be."

"No! Ride your horse until I tell you otherwise." The bald man snapped at Eragon who shrugged and mounted Snowfire. Bald rat-man clapped twice, and the blurry people in front of Murtagh and I started to move forward. I wobbled at Tornac's sudden movement for a second before an arm snaked around my waist, steadying me.

"This is so embarrassing." I groaned quietly before I felt Murtagh laughing at me, I elbowed him in the stomach as payback. I sat in silence as we slowly made our way down a massive tunnel.

"I know you're still tired, you can try and get some sleep while the Varden is showing Eragon and Saphira off," Murtagh said in my ear.

"Okay but if you let me fall...."

"Which I won't, I promise." I sighed and closed my eyes as I let my body relax into Murtagh's chest. If I fall, I will set Alethea on him.

Murtagh gently shaking my shoulder brought me out of my dreamless sleep, I opened my eyes and blinked at the bright light. I shielded my eyes from the light until it became bearable. I dropped my hand and saw Eragon on Saphira.

"We have to go on foot from here. Do you think you can walk?"

"I can try, my eyesight is better but please don't let me do a face plant in front of bald rat-man," I said as Murtagh slid off of Tornac and helped me down. "I would be forever humiliated."

"I promise not to let you face plant in front of 'bald rat man,'" Murtagh said before we started walking. We proceeded into a smaller corridor and made some turns before we came across a massive cedar door. Bald rat-man opened the doors and conducted everyone but the guards inside. Murtagh, Eragon, and I slowly stepped into the ornate room.

"Welcome to Tronjheim, Eragon, and Saphira. I am Ajihad, please, seat yourselves." Using Murtagh as my crutch, I hobbled over to an empty cushioned bench and sat down with a big sigh. Eragon sat in the chair next to me as Murtagh settled into the empty spot next to me.

"Are you still having problems with your vision?" Murtagh whispered in my ear, I dropped my head on his shoulder and let out a small groan.

"Somewhat, I feel lightheaded now, it's giving me a headache," I whispered back.

"Close your eyes and see if that helps; you can always just listen to the conversation." I let out a quiet humph in agreement and closed my eyes from the bright light of the room.

"Are you still having problems?" I smiled a little at Alethea's words.

"Yes, not as bad, though, I just need more time."

"I do not like the bald rat-man."

"Neither do I Alethea, neither do I." I felt Murtagh's shoulders stiffen as another person entered the study.

"Your confusion is understandable. They are twin brothers. I would tell you their names, but they have none."

"Oh great, there's two of them," I muttered, crossing my arms. Saphira let out a hiss from behind me, followed by several minutes of silence. "You have placed me in a difficult position by refusing to be examined. You have been allowed into Farthen Dur because the twins have assured me that they can control you. And because of your actions on behalf of Eragon and Arya. I understand that there may be some things you wish to keep hidden in your mind, but as long as you do, we cannot trust you."

"You wouldn't trust me anyway." Murtagh retorted.

"Though it's been twenty and three years since it last broke upon my ear......I know that voice. It came from another man, more beast than human. Get up." I lifted my head off Murtagh's shoulder and leaned against the side of the cushioned bench. "Remove your shirt.....now turnaround.....Murtagh, did you know of this?"

"We discovered his name in Eragon's mind, but we did not suspect that this boy was the son of one as powerful as Morzan. It never occurred...." One of the bald rat-men started before getting cut off by Ajihad.

"And you didn't tell me? We will discuss this later. First, I must untangle this muddle. Do you still refuse to be probed?"

"Yes, I won't let anyone inside my head."

"There will be unpleasant consequences if you don't."

"All I wish is to leave."

"What??" I said with a glare, finally earning the attention of Ajihad. Murtagh ignored me and continued to stare at Ajihad.

"If we let you go and you get captured and brought before Galbatorix he will extract every secret from your mind," Ajihad said, returning his vision to Murtagh.

"Will you hold me, prisoner, forever?"

"No, only until you let yourself be examined. If you are found trustworthy, the twins will remove all knowledge of Farthen Dur's location."

"You have asked for the one thing I cannot give, least of all to these two. Do with me what you will, but know death will take me before I expose myself to probing."

"I'm not surprised by your choice, though I had hoped otherwise, guards," Ajihad said, pointing at Murtagh. "Take him to a windowless room and bar the door securely. Post six men by the entrance and allow no one inside until I see him. Do not speak to him either."

I stared at Murtagh as several guards surrounded him wearily. I glared at the guards as they passed by me and exited the study. After the heavy oak doors were closed up once again, Ajihad started to study my somewhat concealed figure.

"I don't believe I caught your name." I narrowed my eyes at Ajihad over my shoulder before turning around to look him in the eyes.

"Mal," I replied shortly.

"Why would a young woman like you be traveling with a company like this?" I kept my face neutral.

"That is personal." Ajihad sighed before walking a yard away from where I was standing.

"We can trust you, now please trust us," Ajihad said as gently as possible. I kept my neutral face and cocked my head at the Varden leader.

"Alethea, what do you think. Can we trust the Varden?"

"The Varden seem trustworthy and possibly provide a haven for us to train."

"Okay, don't reveal yourself just yet, though."

"Can you trust us enough?" Ajihad's question brought me out of my talk with Alethea. I let out a deep breath before I started to undo my head wrap. The fabric began to unravel around my head until the last layer that covered my ears, with one last tug my headwrap completely unraveled and left my head and ears exposed.

Gasps went around the room, and Ajihad's eyes widened, I let my hand fall to my side and shook my hair out. When my hair settled, I felt the unusually cold air on my ears for the first time a while.

"I want everyone out of here except for Eragon, Saphira, and Mal. NOW." Ajihad barked out after a few seconds of silence.

"Sir, the king will want to know of Murtagh. And there is still the matter of my insubordination." Orik said, trailing off.

"I will tell Hrothgar myself. As for your action, wait outside and don't let the twin's getaway, I'm not done dealing with them."

"Very well," Orik replied before leaving the room. Ajihad sighed and took a seat at his desk.

"Is my kin, alright?" Ajihad let out another sigh before responding to my question.

"No, but the healers tell me she will recover. They worked on her through the night. The poison took a dreadful toll on her. She wouldn't have lived if not for you, now Eragon, can you tell me how Saphira's egg came into your possession and if you saw another sparkling white egg?"

Eragon told our story omitting the part about my egg, he went over what happened in Dras Leona before informing Ajihad of Brom's death. Ajihad's face darkened for a moment before he gestured Eragon to continue. I tuned out the conversation until Eragon started talking about my egg.

"As for the sparkling white egg, that's not my story to tell," Eragon said before gesturing to me, Ajihad's eyes turned to me with confusion.

"Alethea, you can come out now." Alethea climbed out of my rucksack after my message and crawled onto my shoulder to study Ajihad who was speechless. Alethea let out a squeak before jumping into my lap and curling up.

"There is no longer a white egg to look for," I said, looking up at Ajihad. "And I do hope you realize the great need of keeping her a secret, the fewer the people who know about us, the better. I can't let my inheritance get out."

"I thought you didn't know your inheritance?" Eragon said in confusion.

"Eragon, Saphira, could you give Ajihad and I a few minutes to talk in private?" Eragon gave me an unsure look. "Please?"

"Of course little one," Saphira said before pushing Eragon out of the room, the doors of the study closed behind them and Alethea got up off of my lap and grew to a size that better fits her to fly around the room and check things out.

"What do you know about your inheritance..... Khensamel."


	11. Chapter Ten: Luminescent

"I know that my mother is an Elf and my father is the most hated and feared person in Alageasia, Brom didn't tell me much about my mother's side."

"You look exactly like your mother," Ajihad said after a few seconds.

"I do? Well, that complicates things."

"Yes it does, Galbatorix cannot lay his eyes on you, or he will tear through Alagaesia in an attempt to get you into his hands."

"And if he finds out about Alethea, she's going to be used exactly like Shruikan. What do you suggest I do Ajihad? I want to help, but if I get involved, I will get everyone killed."

"We send you home to your mother. You can train with the elves without worrying about your father."

"My mother?"

"Yes, I know your bitter about her leaving you....."

"No, I am not, I understand her actions," I said, cutting Ajihad off, he nodded at me before standing up.

"One more thing, are you aware of your connection with Arya?" I stood up as well, and Alethea coasted to my shoulder before snuggling into my pack again.

"I know of the connection, yes, but I do not know what it is."

"Arya is your mother's niece."

"Which would make her my cousin." Ajihad nodded just as Eragon poked his head into the study.

"Eragon, perfect timing, can you please get Orik in here as well?" Eragon nodded and returned with the dwarf.

"Orin, you broke the law, and a usual sentence would be death, but this is a special case, as of now you are removed from active service and forbidden to engage in any military activities under my command. Do you understand?" A dark look passed over Orik's face before he responded.

"Yes."

"Furthermore, in the absence of your regular duties, I appoint you Eragon and Saphira's guide for the duration of their stay. You are to make sure they receive every comfort and amenity we have to offer. Saphira will stay above Isidar Mirthrim. Eragon may have quarters wherever he wants. When he has recovered, take him to the training fields. They're expecting him."

"I understand," Orik said with a bow.

"Wait, what about Mal?" Eragon said in confusion.

"Princess Khensamel will have her guide and will be taken care of." Eragon nodded and bowed.

"Where can I find Arya? I would like to see her."

"No one is allowed to visit her with the exception of Princess Khensamel. You will have to wait for her to come to you. Princess Khensamel, your guide, will meet you outside my study shortly." Ajihad said before looking down at his desk. Eragon, Orik, and I exited the study, and I was barraged with questions from Eragon.

"Why is he calling you Princess Khensamel? And why are you the only one allowed to see Arya? What did you two talk about?" I held my hand up at Eragon with a raised eyebrow. He immediately shut his mouth.

"My full name is Khensamel, and I am allowed to see Arya because she is my kin. As for what Ajihad and I discussed, that is private. I'll see you tonight." I said with a wave of my hand.

"But." Eragon tried to get out, but Orik dragged him down the hallway with a laughing Saphira lumbering from behind them.

"That boy is something else." I inwardly laughed at Alethea's comment.

"He is, isn't he. I wouldn't have him any other way, though." Alethea hummed in agreement as a woman with skin dark like Ajihad's walked up to us.

"Princess Khensamel." The woman said curtsying.

"What is your name?"

"Nasuada."

"Well Nasuada, I require a friend that isn't male and I don't want my friends addressing me so formally," I said with a smile. "If you must use the term 'Lady,' princess gives the air of a stuck up woman, and I am never going to be a stuck up twit."

Nasuada laughed at my words and nodded at me.

"Very well, my lady, I will be honored to be your friend, my father had informed me that you might want to visit Lady Arya."

"I would."

"I will take you to her first before taking you to your room. I have a feeling you want a good wash and new clothes."

"That is an understatement." I laughed while we started to walk down the massive stone hallway. "I may travel with men, but I do not need to smell like them."

"I will have your maids draw a bath while you are visiting Arya," Nasuada said while trying contain her laughter.

"I would appreciate that immensely, thank you." We made some more turns before Nasuada ushered me into a room and shut the door behind me. Arya had her back to me for a second before she turned around to face me. "You're looking much better since I saw you last."

Arya smiled and studied me for a few seconds.

"You look just like your mother."

"So I've been told, does it bother you that I am an only half-elf and a child of his on top of that?"

"No, I can sense that you have a good heart, just like your mother." Alethea let out a squeak from my rucksack.

"I like your cousin!" Arya looked confused as I started to smile.

"Would you like to introduce yourself?" I barely finished saying the words before Alethea wormed her way out of the rucksack and onto my shoulder, curling her tail around my neck. "You wondered where the other egg went? She's right here."

Arya's face split into a grin as she watched Alethea clean herself.

` "When did she hatch?"

"Same time Saphira did, we later found out she can size change. She's been keeping a low profile so we wouldn't attract more attention. Alethea, would you like to introduce yourself?" Alethea jumped off my shoulder and grew big enough to look Arya in the eyes.

"I am honored to meet you, Alethea," Arya said with a nod of her head and a twist of her fingers.

"I am honored to meet you as well," Alethea responded before returning to my shoulder.

"I have a question, have the twins always given off a....distrustful aura?"

"Since I have first met them, they have given me the same feeling, but it is Ajihad's decision to trust them," Arya said with distaste.

"Well, I would not trust them with my life," I said, shaking my head. "I should go and get cleaned up now. I feel utterly gross."

I made my exit and Nasuada led me to my room where a hot bath was waiting. I let out a big sigh as I lowered my body into the hot water. I scrubbed my skin raw in an attempt to get the layers of dirt that had accumulated. I let out a squeak when some maids came in to help me finish. I wasn't expecting this much help.

After my bath, the maids gave me a type of lotion to put on my skin that would supposedly soften my skin. The maids then proceeded to brush my hair and braid it into one long braid, raveling silver thread in with my hair. Nasuada had chosen a green and red dress with a black overcoat as my change of clothes.

"I feel out of place," I said while staring down at the extravagant dress. "Is this really what woman of my nobility wear?"

"This," Nasuada said with a smile. "Would be considered plain, my lady."

"Oh my, I think I would rather wear pants," I replied dryly.

The maids left my room after helping me to get dressed. I had been informed that Eragon, Saphira, and I would be meeting King Hrothgar. I exited my given room, and Nasuada led me towards the hall, as we approached Eragon, Nasuada did a little curtsy before leaving.

"I'm still worried about her Saphira." I heard Eragon mutter, Saphira moved her big head to look at me. I smiled and waved a hand.

"Turn around, little one." Eragon looked at Saphira with confusion before turning around and letting his jaw drop.

"Mal!?!" Eragon opened and closed his mouth, speechless.

"Eragon, this isn't the first time I've worn a dress, you don't need to gwuak at me like a goldfish," I said, raising an eyebrow.

"But...you.....dress.....pretty." Eragon stuttered out. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"Yes, Eragon, I'm wearing a dress." Eragon finally managed to snap out of his shock.

"You look really pretty Mal."

"Thank you, Eragon," I said, patting him on the cheek. "Now I do believe we have a king to see."

We walked down the long hall of kings until we reached the throne, I curtsied while Eragon awkwardly bowed.

"Rise, Rider, you need not pay tribute to me, you as well Khensamel."

"Thank you. I didn't anticipate how much strife my arrival would cause."

"Tell me, and speak truth in this, why have you come to Farthen Dur? I know the events that made you flee the Empire, but what is your intent now."

"I want to aid those who cannot escape Galbatorix, including my cousin. I have the strength to help, so I must."

"If the Empire falls, will you take Galbatorix's place and claim his throne?" Hrothgar addressed me while Eragon looked at me in confusion.

"I believe the people of Alagaeseia need a mortal ruler." Hrothgar nodded at me before dismissing Eragon and I. As we were walking away from Hrothgar, I kept getting curious looks from Eragon. "Don't ask Eragon."

It had been about two days since our talk with the King, and I was feeling antsy, I wanted to see if Murtagh was alright. I hadn't heard anything about him since he was taken away. I decided to head for the cells where I thought I might find Eragon visiting Murtagh since he had mentioned it.

As I entered the cell block, the guards bowed to me and opened Murtagh's cell door. I nodded thanks and stepped into the warm, brightly lit room. The two were huddled in the corner talking and hadn't even noticed my entrance.

"I hope I'm not interrupting?" I said with a smile, Murtagh looked at me with a smile before turning back to Eragon. I let out a giggle when he did a double-take. "This seems better than what I had imagined."

"Mal!?!"

"Yes, Murtagh, that is my name," I replied, walking over to the two and looking around. "It's quite cozy in here. I like it."

"Your, your....." I raised my eyebrow and sighed.

"It's not like you haven't seen me in a dress before," I replied, tucking a stray hair behind my ear.

"So that's what you look like without that demonic head wrap, I was right." I tried not to turn red as Murtagh's fingers brushed my pointed ears. Eragon looked between us in curiosity.

"What about your....." I hit Eragon on the head. "Hey!"

"Don't even go there Eragon."

"We are already there, though." I turned to glare at the smirking Murtagh.

"That doesn't mean we have to continue it! Anyways, how long are you going to remain here Murtagh, you can't stay prisoner forever."

"For now, I am content; there's no doubt I will get tired of this, but for now, I am content."

I let out a huff and plopped myself down next to him.

"I would kill for some pants right now, Nasuada won't let me wear any. This dress is driving me crazy. I am drowning in fabric." I let out a groan and leaned my head back against the cold stone wall.

"Are you feeling better?" I rolled my head to the left to look at Murtagh.

"Yes, but I am going to get them back for all those memories they screwed up. I swear they are up to something, do not let them into your mind, who knows what they'll do."

"They are never getting into my mind."

"Good," I said before dropping my head on his shoulder. "I don't want to walk back to my room to sleep, they put me across Tronjheim, and they never gave me a horse to use. You know what? I'm just going to crash here."

I pulled myself off of the bed and onto the cold stone floor, using my sweater as a pillow. After spending month's sleeping on the ground, it no longer bothered me to do so.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing." Murtagh frowned at me.

"You can't sleep on the floor." I let out a snort.

"Watch me. I'm used to it. It doesn't bother me anymore." Murtagh sighed and stood up before walking over to me. "What are you doing?"

"You're not sleeping on the floor."

"What are you going to do about it? Huh?" I said before rolling over and closing my eyes. Seconds when by before I found myself lifted into the air, my eyes flew open as my arm flailed around. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I told you that you're not sleeping on the floor," Murtagh replied before placing me onto his bed. I glared at him while he crossed his arms.

"You are unbelievable.......fine," I grumbled after a minute of silence.


	12. Chapter Eleven: Luminescent

A gentle shake of my shoulder had me springing up and pulling out my dagger, within seconds a hand was wrapped around my wrist to stop the forward motion.

"Hey, it's just me." I came to my senses.

"Oh my God Murtagh, I am so sorry." I gushed out, slowly turning pink.

"Don't worry about it. You have good reflexes." He responded softly with a smile. "Lady Nasuada is here. She wishes to talk to you and says it's urgent."

I frowned and swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. I hurried over to the cell door and exited the cell to see Nasuada and several guards.

"My lady, your presence is requested immediately in the war room," Nasuada said with a bow. I glanced back at Murtagh. He was leaning against the wall of his cell, looking at us with a frown.

"Sword?" A guard walked forward and presented my sword. I grabbed it and strapped it to my back before pulling myself into the waiting saddle of a horse. I glanced back just as the cell door to Murtagh's room was closed shut, I turned back around and kicked my horse into a canter.

I raced through the tunnels of Farthen Dur and soon enough reached the war room, I swung myself off of my horse and ran in while several people crowded around the map of Farthen Dur. As I walked into the room, several heads looked up.

"Your highness, I'm afraid I have some bad news," Ajihad said before gesturing to the map. "Urgals have been spotted converging on Farthen Dur."

"How many?" I asked as room was made for me at the table.

"An army, your highness." I sighed and rested my hands on the large map, thinking of what could be done.

"Are we prepared for such an attack?"

"Possibly but we would be stretching it if we want to save as many elders and children we need to evacuate the city now." I looked up at Hrothgar. He was frowning, obviously not liking the odds.

"Do it. We don't need the innocent getting caught up in our fight, evacuate the city and get them as far away from here as you can that is safe."

"Yes, your highness," Ajihad said before relaying orders to a few others.

"You don't need to call me that Ajihad," I replied before placing a hand under my nose in deep thought, Urgals weren't known to travel in a pack this large, what was going on?

"I'm afraid I must insist, your highness. Right now the Varden sees you as the ruler of Alageasia." I sighed, frowning, and running a hand through my hair.

"Ajihad, the people of Alageasia don't need a ruler like me. Besides, I have no interest in the crown."

"Regardless, my queen, until this war is over and another king or queen has been chosen, you are our queen." I gave Ajihad a pointed look as everyone in the room knelt; these people were stubborn.

"Fine, but at the end of this war, I'm choosing another to rule," I said crossly. "And by no means, does the Empire need to know my full name, call me Mal."

"Yes, queen Mal." I groaned shook my head.

"Now," I started, placing my hands on the table. "What do we do about this impending battle."

The doors to the room opened, and Eragon hurried in looking disheveled and not entirely awake.

"Good, you're here, Eragon. Meet Jörmundur, my second in command." Ajihad said, gesturing to the wirey man standing next to Arya. "I roused the five of you because we are all in grave danger.

About half an hour ago a dwarf ran out of an abandoned tunnel under Tronjheim. He was bleeding and nearly incoherent, but he had enough sense left to tell the dwarves what was pursuing him: an army of Urgals, maybe a day's march from here."

Silence filled the room before Jörmundur and Orik swore and started asked questions at the same time, I glanced at Arya, she hadn't moved a muscle.

"Quiet!" I barked out. The room went silent. "The Urgals aren't approaching over land, but under it. They're in our tunnels. We're going to be attacked from below."

"Why didn't the dwarves know about this sooner? How did the Urgals find the tunnels?" Eragon asked, looking around.

"We're lucky to know about it this early!" Orik bellowed. The chatter in the room went silent again "There are hundreds of tunnels throughout the Beor Mountains, uninhabited since the day they were mined. The only dwarves who go in them are eccentrics who don't want contact with anyone. We could have just as easily received no warning at all."

Ajihad pointed at the map, and Eragon moved closer, studying the map with curiosity. Ajihad's finger was on the section of the Beor Mountains that touched Surda's eastern border.

"This," he said, "is where the dwarf claimed to have come from."

"Orthíad!" Orik yelled out before Jörmundur gave him a puzzled look. "It's an ancient dwelling of ours that was deserted when Tronjheim was completed. During its time it was the greatest of our cities. But no one's lived there for centuries."

"And it's old enough for some of the tunnels to have collapsed," Ajihad said. "That's how we surmise it was discovered from the surface. I suspect that Orthíad is now being called Ithrö Zhâda. That's where the Urgal column that was chasing Eragon and Saphira was supposed to go, and I'm sure it's where the Urgals have been migrating all year. From Ithrö Zhâda they can travel anywhere they want in the Beor Mountains. They have the power to destroy both the Varden and the dwarves."

"Do you know how many Urgals there are? Are Galbatorix's troops with them? We can't plan a defense without knowing how large their army is." I asked, tilting my head at the vast expanse of tunnel connections that the Urgals could take.

"We're unsure about both those things, your highness, yet our survival rests on that last question," Ajihad answered in an unhappy tone. "If Galbatorix has augmented the Urgals' ranks with his own men, we don't stand a chance. But if he hasn't—because he still doesn't want his alliance with the Urgals revealed, or for some other reason—it's possible we can win. Neither Orrin nor the elves can help us at this late hour. Even so, I sent runners to both of them with news of our plight. At the very least they won't be caught by surprise if we fall." Ajihad paused and rubbed his forehead.

"I've already talked with Hrothgar and the queen, and we've decided on a course of action. Our only hope is to contain the Urgals in three of the larger tunnels and channel them into Farthen Dûr, so they don't swarm inside Tronjheim like locusts. I need you, Eragon and Arya, to help the dwarves collapse extraneous tunnels. The job is too big for normal means. Two groups of dwarves are already working on it: one outside Tronjheim, the other beneath it. Eragon, you're to work with the group outside. Arya, you'll be with the one underground; Orik will guide you to them."

"Why not collapse all the tunnels instead of leaving the large ones untouched?" Eragon asked.

"Because, that would force the Urgals to clear away the rubble, and they might decide to go in a direction we don't want them to. Plus, if we cut ourselves off, they could attack other dwarf cities—which we wouldn't be able to assist in time." Orik explained to Eragon.

"Hrothgar warned me that Tronjheim sits on such a dense network of tunnels that if too many are weakened, sections of the city will sink into the ground under their own weight. We can't risk that." Adjihad added.

"So there won't be any fighting inside Tronjheim? You said the Urgals would be channeled outside the city, into Farthen Dûr." Jörmundur asked in confusion.

"We can't defend Tronjheim's entire perimeter—it's too big for our forces—so we're going to seal all the passageways and gates leading into it. That will force the Urgals out onto the flats surrounding Tronjheim, where there's plenty of maneuvering room for our armies." I spoke up. "Since the Urgals have access to the tunnels, we cannot risk an extended battle. As long as they are here, we will be in constant danger of them quarrying up through Tronjheim's floor. If that happens, we'll be trapped, attacked from both the outside and inside. We have to prevent the Urgals from taking Tronjheim. If they secure it, it's doubtful we will have the strength to provoke them."

"And what of our families your highness?" Jörmundur asked briskley. "I won't see my wife and son murdered by Urgals."

"All the women and children are being evacuated into the surrounding valleys. If we are defeated, they have guides who will take them to Surda. That's all I can do, under these circumstances Jörmundur."

Jörmundur sighed with physical relief before turning to Ajihad, "Sir, is Nasuada going as well?"

"She is not pleased, but yes." All eyes were on Ajihad as he squared his shoulders and announced, "The Urgals will arrive in a matter of hours. We know their numbers are great, but we must hold Farthen Dûr. Failure will mean the dwarves' downfall, death to the Varden—and eventual defeat for Surda and the elves. This is one battle we cannot lose. Now go and complete your tasks! Jörmundur, ready the men to fight."

Everyone in the room scurried out and headed for their intended tasks while I stayed behind to address Ajihad.

"Your highness, it would be best if you evacuated yourself now while you still have time." A sour expression crossed my face before it hardened.

"That is something I cannot do Ajihad. If I am to lead these people, I will be joining them, not running away. You want me to be your queen? Let me." Ajihad sighed and shook his head, mumbling about me being like my mother.

"If that is what you wish, then all I can say is please be careful your highness." A small smirk started to cross my face.

"Don't forget what I am Ajihad. We can take care of ourselves." Ajihad sighed again while a small smile crossed his face. "And don't call me your highness, use lady if you have to."

I stood watching the crumbled ruins of the last tunnel that had to be caved as Eragon walked up to my side, dusting his hands-free from rock sediment.

"What do you think?" I surveyed his work with a grim expression.

"I hope this holds," I muttered before looking at the mass of woman and children streamed out of Tronjheim. Everyone carried loads of provisions, clothes, and belongings. A small group of warriors, predominantly boys, and older men, accompanied them.

Most of the activity, however, was at the base of Tronjheim. The Varden and dwarves were assembling their army. Each section bore the Varden's standard: a white dragon holding a rose above a sword pointing downward on a purple field.

"Ajihad wants you to join the army," Orik said, walking up to us in his armor. "There are no more tunnels to cave in. Food is waiting for the three of you." We headed into a tent and quickly ate before being led to the armory, Orik disappeared before coming back with several pieces of armor and a crew of other workers.

"My queen," Orik said, gesturing to another room. "Your armor has been prepared." Eragon looked at me with a frown. I rolled my eyes and headed to the room with my armor. I slipped out of my dress and into the sturdy green dress before pulling on pants made of the same material.

"Since you are a half-elf, Hrothgar thought that light but strong armor would be appropriate." I looked at myself in the mirror after the metal armor had been placed over my dress.

"This is perfect Orik, send my thanks to the king for his thoughtful consideration," I responded as I strapped a quiver to my back as well as a sword. I then tied a dagger to my leg as an extra precaution. I followed Orik back into the main room where Eragon and Saphira were waiting and stared at Saphira's armor. "Saphira will be a force to be reckoned with when we get that armor on you."

"I could say the same to you, little one," Saphira responded as Orik and Eragon started to put pieces on Saphira. "I can sense your guilt little one, you and Alethea are separated for your safety; it is not your fault."

I looked up at the blue dragon and stared into her eyes.

"When did you get so wise, Saphira? Never mind, that happens quickly when you are around Eragon." Saphira did the dragon version of a chuckle, startling several dwarves around us. Eragon shot me look. "We are having female bonding time before battle Eragon, excuse us if we find something funny."

Eragon grumbled before looking me over.

"You look like you belong in that armor Mal." I smiled and adjusted one of my metal vambraces before crossing my arms and frowning.

"Has there been any word on what they would do with Murtagh during battle?" I asked as Orik and Eragon put the last piece of armor on Saphira and stepped back.

"No," Eragon said as Saphira stretched out her neck and wings.

"This will slow me down, but it'll help stop the arrows. How do I look?" Saphira posed for Eragon.

"Very intimidating," Eragon replied, a puff of smoke exited Saphira's nostrils, she was pleased by Eragon's answer.

"I brought you armor as well, though it took much searching to find your size. We rarely forge arms for men or elves. I don't know who this was made for, but it has never been used and should serve you well." Orik helped Eragon into his arms and took a step back to admire his work.

"Thank you for these gifts. Hrothgar's presents are greatly appreciated." Eragon said, stretching in the armor.

"Don't give thanks now," Orik said with a chuckle. "Wait until the armor saves your life."


	13. Chapter Twelve: Luminescent

The warriors around us began marching away. The three battalions were re-positioning themselves in different parts of Farthen Dûr. Unsure of what we should do, Eragon and I looked at Orik, who shrugged.

"I suppose we should accompany them." We trailed behind a battalion as it headed toward the crater wall. The battalion halted at one of the collapsed tunnels. The dwarves had piled the rubble so that anyone inside the tunnel could easily climb out.

"This must be one of the places they're going to force the Urgals to surface," Saphira said, Alethea, chirped in agreement from the small backpack strapped to my back. We had made a deal, as long as she stays out of sight, she can stay with me.

Hundreds of lanterns were fixed atop poles and stuck into the ground. They provided a vast pool of light that glowed like an evening sun. Fires blazed along the rim of the tunnel's roof, enormous cauldrons of pitch heating over them. Rows of sharpened saplings were being pounded into the ground to make a thorny barrier.

Eragon went to help the men and dwarves digging trenches, Saphira helped as well by pulling saplings. Orik went to help make barriers for the archery stands while I filled wineskins, much to the soldier's displeasure. Apparently, I didn't need to help them since I was the queen. I had just raised my eyebrow and continued to fill wineskins. Eragon and Orik walked over to me and gulped down water as fast as they could.

"All the men and dwarves are on the battlefield. Tronjheim has been sealed off. Hrothgar has taken charge of the battalion to our left. Ajihad leads the one ahead of us." Orik said after taking many gulps of water.

"Who commands this one?" Eragon asked.

"Jörmundur," I responded while closing a wineskin and handing it to a waiting soldier. Orik sat down with a grunt and placed his war ax on the ground.

"Eragon. Mal. Look." I looked at Saphira before glancing at what she was referring too. It was Murtagh and Tornac, Murtagh had armor on and was carrying his hand-and-a-half sword again. Eragon got to his feet as Orik cursed, I stayed back to watch not knowing what was going on.

"It's all right; Ajihad released me," Murtagh said to the irate dwarf.

"Why would he do that?" Orik demanded. Murtagh smiled wryly.

"He said this was an opportunity to prove my good intentions. He doesn't think I would be able to do much damage even if I did turn on the Varden." Eragon visibly relaxed.

"How do we know you're not lying?" Orik barked.

"Orik!" I said sharply. "Calm." The dwarf backed down with a grumble.

"Because I say so," A firm voice announced shortly before Ajihad strode forward, he was armed for battle with a breastplate and an ivory-handled sword. Ajihad stopped before us and gave me a slight bow. "My Lady, you should get some rest."

With those words, Ajihad swiftly turned around and dragged Eragon off to speak with him. I sighed and rolled my head in slight annoyance.

"What are you doing here!?!" I turned my head to look at an irate Murtagh.

"Filling wineskins, do you need a refill?" I said, gesturing to the large pots of water near me.

"You know that is not what I meant," Murtagh said, giving me a look. "Why aren't you with the woman and children?"

"Fighting Murtagh, I'm not going to run away in fear while my friends go to battle and stop giving me that look, I'm not changing my mind." Murtagh eventually sighed and held an arm out.

"If you're fighting, then you are not leaving my sight." I snorted and took his hand. I got pulled into the saddle in front of him, and he started heading in the direction of one of the higher barricades. We reached the barricade and dismounted Tornoc before picketing him and settling in line, waiting for the impending battle.

Occasionally, messengers ran through the encampment, causing the warriors to surge to their feet. But it always proved to be a false alarm. I could tell that the men were getting weary.

"It's late. We should sleep. If anything happens, the others will wake us." Orik said after it had gotten dark. Eragon didn't even bother to complain and went to sleep against Saphira. "That means you too my lady."

I gave Orik a pointed look while Murtagh dropped himself in front of a barricade.

"Don't argue Mal," Murtagh grumbled before patting the spot next to him. "Come here."

I crossed my arms before heading over and plopping down next to Murtagh. "I didn't think you were this serious," I grumbled while I pulled my quiver and sheath off my back and settled into the barricade. I leaned my head back to look at the cavern ceiling and tried to fall asleep.

"My human wake." I opened my eyes at Alethea's voice. I looked at my pack to see Alethea stick her little pearl white head out of the bag before giving out a loud squeak. I groaned and dropped my head back onto whatever I was using as a pillow.

"Mal! Wake up, they are--" Eragon stopped talking.

"They are what Eragon?" I grumbled opening my eyes to look at Eragon who had a scarlet face. "What?"

"I, uh, the Urgals are coming, I'll just... leave you two." Eragon scurried away, clearly flustered. I stared in confusion as Eragon hurried back to Saphira who was looking at us with a dragon smirk.

"What did he mean by--" I asked, turning to look at Murtagh, my face went red, and I scrambled away from the laughing dark-haired boy. My pillow had been Murtagh's chest. I swatted at his shoulder. "That isn't funny at all you, you..."

"You what?" I growled and punched him in the chest before hauling my body to my feet and re-equipping my quiver and sword. Murtagh got to his feet and equipped his sword as well. 

"It has begun," Arya said with a sorrowful expression, we looked at each other with uncertain looks. The troops in the encampment stood alert with their weapons drawn. Arya and I knocked an arrow and held it ready to shoot.

"A scout ran out of a tunnel a few minutes ago," Murtagh said to Eragon. "The Urgals are coming."

"And how do you know that?" I growled quietly, Murtagh shot me a smirk.

"I've been awake for a while, my lady." I shot him a dirty look. Now he was using that term. I shook my head to clear my flustered thoughts. If he had been awake, why hadn't pushed me off of him? We stared at the tunnels in anticipation, Eragon had mounted Saphira and Murtagh was now on Tornoc.

"I hear them!" A man cried, no one moved as hands tightened on swords. Harsh Urgal shouts shattered the silent air as dark shapes boiled upward in the tunnel's opening. At a command, the cauldrons of pitch were tilted on their sides, pouring scalding liquid into the tunnel's hungry throat. The monsters howled in pain, arms flailing. A torch was thrown onto the bubbling pitch, and an orange pillar of greasy flames roared up in the opening, engulfing the Urgals in an inferno.

Archers brought back their arms, preparing to let a stream of arrows at the incoming Urgals. At a command, the archers let loose their arrows. I let some arrow's fly as well. There was too many of them pouring from the tunnels, at least I didn't see any of Galbatorix's troops. We ducked behind our shields as a wave arrows flew towards us.

Eragon and Saphira took to the air and started picking off the Urgals, several in one go. I ran out of arrows and drew my sword before leaping forward, into the masses of Urgals. I kept fighting for what felt like an eternity, and soon, we were outnumbered. A deep, loud horn was sound, and I saw a black mass shoot out from the tunnels and head for the middle of the battlefield.

I ran up a downed archers station and saw Eragon facing off with the Shade. I shoved Alethea into a hiding spot much to her displeasure. I quickly returned to the fight around me, twirling around as fast as I could, taking out as many Urgals as I could while trying to get to where Eragon was dealing with the Shade. I burst into the circle of Urgals right as they closed around Eragon and me, we were barricaded in with a fuming shade.

"So, my young Rider, we meet again. You were foolish to escape from me in Gil'ead. It will only make things worse for you in the end."

"You'll never capture me alive," Eragon growled.

"Is that so?" Shade asked, raising an eyebrow. "And who is this? I don't believe we have met."

I shifted on my feet, twirling my sword in my hand and glaring at the Shade, darkness oozed from his whole body.

"Well, well, well, I haven't seen a face like yours in eighteen years." I narrowed my eyes at him. He knew exactly who I was.

"Back off." Eragon hissed, stepping in front of me to obstruct the shades view.

"I don't see your 'friend' Murtagh around to help you. You can't stop me now. No one can!" I saw fear lance through Eragon's body.

"How did you like being shot?" Eragon retorted. The Shade's face tightened.

"I will be repaid in blood for that. Now tell me where your dragon is hiding."

"Never."

"Then I will force it from you!" The Shade threw his sword at Eragon, Eragon deflected it and stumbled a bit, the Shade had to be going through his memories. I lunged forward to distract the Shade from getting into Eragon's head. The Shade stepped back at my swing before using his magic to throw me across the floor.

I rolled on the floor, wincing the pain in my body away while Eragon started to fight the Shade. I quickly got to my feet when the Shade shouted something at the Urgals, I was pushed down, and a spear was sent through my right shoulder, pinning me to rock floor. I let out a shriek but quickly silenced it.

"Now, if you would kindly wait there for me we will be on our way shortly, your highness." The Shade hissed before swinging his sword at Eragon. Eragon parried the swing, and the two began to duel moving around the circle while kicking and stabbing at one another. I tried to wiggle my left arm to reach the dagger at my leg, but as soon as the Urgal caught on to what I was doing the spear was pushed farther into my shoulder.

I screamed as pain radiated through my whole body this time. My back twitched against the rough stone before I stopped moving entirely and tilted my head to the side in exhaustion, letting my face rest on the cold rock while I watched the battle. My heart dropped when Eragon screamed as the Shade's sword cut through his chain mail and sliced Eragon's back, sending him to his knees.

Eragon looked up at the shining jewel about his head. I saw the look of defeat on his face. Before I even comprehended what happened, shards of gems rained down, creating an opportunity for Eragon to run his sword through the heart of the Shade.

"Brisingr!" Zar'roc blazed with bloody light, heatless flames running along the blade as it burned the Shade. The Shade looked down at the sword sticking out of his chest before he started to howl, his skin turned transparent before black swirled surrounded the Shade and three dark clouds left the body of the Shade and flew out of Tronjheim. The Urgals stumbled around as if they were under a spell and started to retreat into the tunnels in which they had come from.

Eragon was sprawled out on his back, dark red blood pooling beneath him. I sighed, breathing heavily, he did it. I winced and brought my arms up to grasp the shaft of the spear. I got a firm grip before taking a deep breath and yanking the spear out of my shoulder. I screamed as the metal dislodged from my shoulder. I laid still on the floor of the large cavern and panted, trying to get a deep breath through my whimpers.

"Mal?"


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Luminescent

"Mal?" I heard someone call out my name, I tried to yell back, but my exhaustion kept me from getting the words out all I could do was cough and gag on blood. I heard and felt the sound of feet running towards me. It was hard to distinguish exactly who was calling my name. "MAL!!!"

The feet quickened, and a blurry Murtagh entered my vision, hands quickly slid underneath my body, and I was raised in the air. A high pitched keening sound escaped my lips as my shoulder was jostled. Everything started to sound like I had cotton in my ears, muffled, and hard to understand. The walls of the cave passed quickly, and every so often Murtagh would glance down at me, the only response I could give him was a slow blink of my dazed eyes. Eventually, my eye's became too heavy to keep open, and I let the nagging darkness consume my consciousness.

Murtagh watched the Urgals run back for the tunnels in confusion before looking for the wayward Mal, she had disappeared in the middle of the battle, and he hadn't seen her since.

"Orik! Have you seen Mal?" Orik turned to Murtagh and frowned.

"Last I saw her she was running towards Eragon and the Shade." Both Orik and Murtagh's faces went white before they raced towards the area where the shade had been last. They climbed over the dead bodies of Urgals, humans, and dwarves.

"Mal?" Murtagh called out before both he and Orik heard a throaty cough, they increased their pace and saw Mal lying on the ground with blood pouring out of her right shoulder. "MAL!"

The two raced over to Mal's body and looked at her. Her eyes were glossy as a trail of blood seeped from the edge of her mouth. Murtagh immediately began to pick her up, trying to be gentle with Mal's injured shoulder. Murtagh suppressed a wince when Mal let out a piercing scream, the two picked up their pace. Murtagh glanced down on Mal since she got reticent and started to panic when she didn't blink back at him.

As they entered the medical area, shouts died down before several people ran over to Murtagh and Orik.

"Put her here." One of the healers said while several others crowded around the table. Murtagh set Mal on the table and was immediately shooed out along with Orik. The two wandered around the devastation until they came across Ajihad.

"How is she?" Orik frowned before replying.

"She's with the healers, sir." Ajihad sighed at Orik's response. "I am concerned as to why the Shade didn't kill her."

"The shade most likely planned to bring her back to the Empire." Murtagh frowned, confused as to why the Empire would want Mal.

"What would the Empire want with Mal?" Ajihad looked at Murtagh sternly.

"She has more power at her fingertips than you think Murtagh, her getting into Galbatorix's hands would mean the end of the Varden," Orik swore, while Murtagh looked at Ajihad with a confused look. "I cannot disclose any more information without her consent."

"When can I see her again?" Ajihad looked at Murtagh with a twinkle in his eye.

"When the healers are done with their work."

I let out a small groan as my consciousness swam back from the dark hole it had gone into. That was a harrowing experience. I hope Eragon is doing okay, the last memory I have of him is him lying on his back while he bled copious amounts of blood from the wound on his back.

As my senses slowly came back, I could no longer feel the searing pain in my right shoulder, that's a plus. I also felt a warm hand holding onto one of my hands, almost in a death grip. I fluttered my eyelids open, I was in a brightly lit room and was laying on a soft mattress, that felt so much better than the rock floor.

"I think you like for me to think you're dying." I looked to my right to see a tired and worn out Murtagh.

"I didn't do that on purpose, Eragon needed help."

"You tried to go up against a Shade Mal, a Shade." Using my left hand, I pushed myself up into a sitting position, wincing at how stiff my body felt.

"I went up against a Shade, that lost might I add, Murtagh." Murtagh scowled at me before sighing. "Eragon?"

"He's fine. He's still out from his wound, Angela healed his back, so it's just a scar now." I sighed in relief before looking down at my shoulder there was a thick bandage over it, it must have been terrible. I ran a finger over the bumpy ridges of the cloth.

"Next time don't go running after someone that'll kill you." I dropped my hand and looked at Murtagh's tired face.

"He wasn't trying to kill me, Murtagh." Murtagh sighed at me. He thought I was out of my mind.

"That's is not what it looked like, Mal."

"He was pinning me down." Murtagh went utterly still at my words. "He was going to take me back to the Empire, Murtagh. He was going to take me to Galbatorix." I dropped my head into my left hand at how close I had been to being toted back to Uru Baen.

Murtagh's arms wrapped around my body, I let myself lean into him.

"He came so close. He came so damn close." I muttered into his shirt, listening to the rhythmic thumping of Murtagh's heart. "I need to get up." I started to get up when Murtagh abruptly pushed me back down.

"You're not going anywhere." I glared at the dark-haired boy.

"And why not? I'm fine." Murtagh crossed his arms.

"You're hurt."

"I said I'm fine. I'm not bleeding anymore." Murtagh shook his head in refusal. I narrowed my eyes at him before thinking of a plan of escape. I quickly slipped out of bed and made a mad dash for the exit. Murtagh ran after me, yelling about how much of an idiot I was being. I have to admit, running did irritate my shoulder and slowed my speed down. I almost reached the end of the hall when hands wrapped around my waist and hoisted me in the air. "Dammit!"

"I can't believe you just did that!" Murtagh growled in my ear before swinging me up into his arms.

"You should know by now that I don't listen to anyone Murtagh!" I retorted with a glare. "I am not going to lay in a bed wondering how my best friend and little brother is doing."

"Fine, but you're not walking," Murtagh said before he started walking again, this time in a different direction. I let out a grumble and hooked an arm around his neck so my right arm wouldn't be squished in a weird angle. I continued to glare at Murtagh as we entered another hallway. "Stop glaring at me, princess."

My glare turned into a scowl.

"Don't tell me that they've got you saying that as well," Murtagh smirked at before heading into a room with several other people.

"Mal?" I stopped glaring at Murtagh to see Eragon standing next to a woman I have never met.

"Eragon," I said brightly before turning back to Murtagh. "Put me down." Murtagh sat me down on the edge of the bed, and Eragon quickly ran up to me. I waved Eragon's hands away with my left hand. "I'm fine, Eragon."

"Really? Because the last time I saw you, you had a giant gaping hole in your shoulder." I gave Eragon a look before pushing my shirt to the side so he could see the bandages.

"It's all healed up Eragon." Eragon winced at my shoulder. I covered it back up with my shirt before looking around the room to see Orik, Ajihad, and a woman I didn't recognize.

"Your highness, it is good to see you healed, we were just about to send a hunting party out to flush the rest of the Urgals from the tunnels," Ajihad said.

"Sounds good Ajihad, we need all of the Urgals out before we let the citizens come back." Ajihad bowed his head before turning his head to Murtagh.

"Are you up for joining the hunting party?"

Murtagh nodded before standing in front of me with a stern look.

"Don't try anything funny." I raised an eyebrow at him while he turned towards Eragon. "Keep her from moving around, and she tends to--"

"Not listen to anyone," Eragon finished with a smile. "I'm sure I can find some way to keep her still." I shot a glare at Eragon before getting to my feet and turning to Murtagh as he adjusted his sword belt. At my movement, he looked up. I looked into his eyes before looking at the ground and shuffling.

"I never thanked you, Murtagh." Murtagh gave me a look. "I haven't, so thank you." I walked up to him, and as fast as I could, kissed him on the cheek before retreating to the bed with a slightly red face.

Eragon shot me a look while I gave him a glare that had him putting his hands up in surrender.

"Be safe and careful, who knows how many are still around," I said quietly, the group slowly shuffled out of the room leaving me, Eragon, and the woman I didn't know.

"Here, she's been cranky and bitey that she couldn't immediately go to you," Eragon said as he handed me my rucksack. I took it and settled it in my lap as Alethea's shiny, pearl white head popped out of the bag. I gathered my dragon in my arms and let her waves of relief soak into my skin.

"I'm sorry, Lee. I am so sorry." I murmured against her side. A scaly head bumped against my face.

"It is okay, my rider. I couldn't stop my rage that we cannot be together because of that man. I am fine now that we are together again." I breathed a sigh of relief before my eyes flew up to the other woman in the room.

"Do not fear your highness. Your secret is safe with me." The woman automatically responded. 

"Mal, this is Angela, I met her in Terim, she's the one that healed us," Eragon added, I looked from Eragon to Angela before I bowed my head.

"I am grateful that you healed me." The woman waved her hand.

"No need to thank me, young princess, I was doing what was right. I should warn you. My healing only goes so far. You will experience trouble with that arm in the future." I bowed my head again in thanks before moving my arm so Alethea could sit on my good shoulder and wrap her tail around my neck. I continued to rub her head, causing light rumbles to emit from her tiny body.

It had been three day's since Ajihad, and the others left to flush out the tunnels, and I had a feeling that grew worse every minute. I was down in the central area with Arya, surveying the room when a couple of men tumbled out of the tunnels bloody and worn out. My heart dropped when I saw that Murtagh wasn't with the remaining group; neither was Ajihad.

"We were ambushed by those blasted twins!" Orik snarled, throwing his bloody ax into the ground.

"What do you mean, ambushed Orik?" I asked, walking up to the heaving dwarf, Orik looked at me with a sad look.

"The twins are with the Empire; they ambushed us in one of the tunnels and killed many of our group your highness." I started to have trouble keeping my voice even.

"Where is Murtagh? Ajihad?" Orik swore before plopping his body on the ground.

"Dead, your highness, at least that is what I can assume, it happened so fast." I looked at Arya, who had a sympathetic look on her face.

"I'm going to search the tunnels for any last Urgals," I said stiffly while wrapping my hair up and out of the way.

"I will be joining you, cousin." I looked at Arya, who was preparing her sword and bow and nodded.

"Your highness, it is dangerous, please don't go." Orik pleaded. I looked at Orik.

"Tell Nasuada that she has assumed the position her father once held temporarily and I will be back to discuss the Varden's future with her." With those words, I bolted into the tunnel with Arya at my heels. We ran until we came across a tunnel with the bodies of the group. I took a deep breath and began to step around the bodies, trying to see if they were someone I had known.

When we had checked all of the bodies, there was one uncounted for, Murtagh. I stepped closer to the end of the tunnel and saw bloody, ripped pieces of Murtagh's clothing. I knelt and picked up the fabric in my hand, squeezing in my fist in anger, I was about to get up and leave when I noticed something shimmering next to a piece of torn fabric.

I picked it up and realized that it was the necklace Murtagh had worn and had never taken off. I clenched in my hand as I stood up, I kept the necklace in my hand as Arya and I ran back to Tronjheim. This was the last time I would let someone get close to my heart, and the twins, they will pay.


	15. Part Two: Iridescent

A tale told a thousand times. Only those who dare defy Empire, whisper the true stories. A time of Dragons, Elves, and truth. A time, of Dragon Riders.

The Tale Thus Far:

Attacked and low on men and resources, Mal and Eragon set out for the hidden city of Ellesmira with Arya and Orik. Mal, still recovering from the attack that left her sword arm useless, comes to terms with her loss.


	16. Chapter Fourteen: Iridescent

I stalked into the meeting room with an air of annoyance and a menacing aura. The last couple of days had been torture for me, and I was at my whits end. I sank in the chair at the end of the table while the men and woman in the room bowed. My hand immediately went to the necklace that was now wrapped around my neck, Murtagh's necklace. The only thing I had left of the man.

Day's had passed since Eragon woke up and he was constantly subjected to the angony of his scar on his back, rendering him curled up on the floor in agony. My shoulder wasn't as bad, but it still caused problems, I had a hard time using my sword, and my bow was now entirely out of the question. I felt weak and useless.

"Your highness?" I was pulled out of my thoughts at Jörmundur's voice. I dropped my hand back into my lap and focused on the group.

"Proceed," I murmured out, straightening my posture and looking at the council members.

"Thank you for coming, Eragon, even though you have suffered your loss. This is Umérth, Falberd, Sabrae, and Elessari," Jörmunder said gesturing to the members sitting around the table, Eragon inclined his head before he frowned.

"And what of the Twins, were they part of this council?" Sabrae shook her head sharply and tapped a long fingernail on the table. I resisted the urge to wrinkle my nose in disgust as her perfume filled my nose.

"They had naught to do with us. They were slime—worse than slime leeches that worked only for their benefit. They had no desire to serve the Varden. Thus, they had no place in this council."

"Enough. We're not here to discuss the Twins," Jörmundur snapped. "We face a crisis that must be dealt with quickly and effectively. If we don't choose Ajihad's successor, someone else will. Hrothgar has already con-tacted us to convey his condolences. While he was more than courteous, he is sure to be forming his own plans even as we speak. We must also consider Du Vrangr Gata, the magic users. Most of them are loyal to the Varden, but it's difficult to predict their actions even in the best of times. They might decide to oppose our authority for their advantage."

"The six of us have already decided whom to support. There is no doubt among us that it is the right person. But," Falberd spoke up sternly and raising a finger. "Before we reveal who it is, you must give us your word of honor that whether you agree or disagree with us, nothing of our discussion will leave this room."

"Why would they want that?" Eragon asked in my mind. I turned my head to look at him.

"These people are stubborn Eragon, though I do believe they are forgetting that you are an intelligent human being, you haven't pledged yourself to the Varden, so there isn't any risk." Eragon sighed before nodding.

"Very well, you have my word. Now, who do you want to lead the Varden?"

"Nasuada," I spoke up sternly.

"Why not you, Jörmundur? Ajihad called you his right-hand man. Doesn't that mean you should take his place now that he's gone?"

"Because," Jörmundur said, selecting his words with care, "Ajihad was speaking of military matters then, nothing more. Also, I am a member of this council, which only has power because we support one another. It would be foolish and dangerous for one of us to raise himself above the rest."

"Does Nasuada have enough experience?" Eragon asked. Elessari pressed herself against the table's edge as she leaned forward.

"I had already been here for seven years when Ajihad joined the Varden. I've watched Nasuada grow up from a darling girl to the woman she is. A trifle light-headed occasionally, but a good figure to lead the Varden. The people will love her. Now I-"

"Nausada is fully capable of leading the Varden." I snapped, cutting Elessari off. "She doesn't need others to treat her like an air headed puppet." Silence filled the room.

"Ajihad's funeral will be held in two days," Umérth said, breaking the silence. "Directly afterward, we plan to appoint Nasuada as our new leader. We have yet to ask her, but she will surely agree. We want you to be present at the appointing—no one, not even Hrothgar, can complain about it then— and to swear allegiance to the Varden. That will give back the confidence Ajihad's death has stolen from the people, and prevent anyone from trying to splinter this organization."

"They don't want you to swear to Nasuada—just to the Varden." Saphira hissed, I let out a growl.

"This isn't what we talked about." Eragon looked at me as I started to rub my shoulder; it was beginning to throb with pain.

"You should go and rest Mal. You've been up for nearly two days without sleep." I glanced at Saphira, and she gave me one of her mothering looks.

"If you will excuse me," I said while getting to my feet. "I will be heading to my room to rest." I quickly stalked out of the room and headed straight towards my bed. I dropped my body onto it as Alethea flew over to me and curled up next to me.

I had a firm grip on Tornoc's reigns as Tronjheim's north gate was raised for us to exit the city. It was roughly a half-hour until dawn, and the city seemed deserted. We passed through the gate quickly, and it was lowered back into place.

"Are you sure you're up for this journey Mal." I glanced at Eragon while Tornoc struck the stone floor with his newly shoed hooves. I patted his neck to calm him down. I had decided to keep Tornac since he had been so precious to Murtagh.

"I should be the one saying that Eragon," I responded with a sad smile. "I'm worried about you having an attack while we are traveling."

"I'll be fine, Mal." I let out a snort.

"Then I will be fine too." Eragon gave me a look. I shrugged his look off and checked my saddlebags one more time. It is going to be a long time before we hit any resupplies, so we needed to have all of the goods we need.

We didn't wait very long before Orik came rambling up to us, carrying a large bag.

"No horse?" Eragon asked in confusion.

"We'll be stopping at Tarnag, just north of here. From there we take rafts along the Az Ragni to Hedarth, an outpost for trading with the elves. We won't need steeds before Hedarth, so I'll use my own feet till then." Orik said as he set the bundle down with a clang, he opened it to reveal our armor that had been half destroyed in the battle.

"Our greatest smiths worked on these," said Orik, "as well as your armor, Saphira. However, since we can't take dragon armor with us, it was given to the Varden, who will guard it against our return." I took my newly repaired armor and examined the shoulder, all fixed up.

"Thank you Orik," I said while smiling at the dwarf, I slipped the exceedingly light armor on and tied it shut, or at least tried. My hand spasmed with pain, and I was unable to finish tying my armor. I let out a hiss at my trembling, painful hand.

"Mal let me do it," Eragon said, reaching over and finishing the knot.

"Thank you, Eragon," I muttered as I gripped my right wrist in an attempt to stop the tremors. 

"My human..."

"We need to get to Du Weldenvarden Alethea, only there can we train. I can make it to Du Weldenvarden, and then I will rest, does that satisfy you?"

"No, but I understand." Alethea huffed.

"Do not be so quick to don this, Eragon. There is a choice you must make first."

"What choice is that?" Orik uncovered Eragon's helmet to reveal that several symbols had been etched into the top.

"Mine king, Hrothgar, desires that I present this helm as a symbol of the friendship he bears for you. And with it, Hrothgar extends an offer to adopt you as one of Dûrgrimst Ingeitum, as a member of his own family." Eragon glanced at me in shock before consulting Saphira. They seemed to have come to a decision when Eragon turned back to Orik.

"How often has this been done?"

"For a human? Never. Hrothgar argued with the Ingeitum families for a day and a night before they agreed to accept you. If you consent to bear our crest, you will have full rights as clan member. You may attend our councils and give voice on every issue. And," Orik grew somber, "if you so wish, you will have the right to be buried with our dead."

Eragon looked at Saphira, and I could tell that they were having a private conversation. When they were done, Eragon turned to me.

"What do you think I should do?" I considered his question before responding.

"What feels right Eragon." Eragin nodded and finally turned back to Orik and took the helm, placing it on his head.

"I am privileged to join Dûrgrimst Ingeitum." Approval flashed across Oirk's face.

"Then take this Knurlnien, this Heart of Stone, and cup it between your hands—yes, like so. You must steel yourself now and prick open a vein to wet the stone. A few drops will suffice... To finish, repeat after me: Os il dom qirânû carn dûr thar-gen, zeitmen, oen grimst vor formv edaris rak skilfz. Narho is belgond..."

It was several minutes later by the time Orik and Eragon were done.

"Whatever else the clans may say about this business, you have behaved with integrity and respect. They cannot ignore that." Orik said before he grinned. "We are of the same clan now, eh? You are my foster brother! Under more normal circumstances, Hrothgar would have presented your helm himself, and we would have held a lengthy ceremony to commemorate your induction into Dûrgrimst Ingeitum, but events move too swiftly for us to tarry. Fear not that you are being slighted, though! Your adoption shall be celebrated with the proper rituals when you and Saphira next return to Farthen Dûr. You shall feast and dance and have many pieces of paper to sign in order to formalize your new position."

"I look forward to the day," Eragon replied, I could tell that his mind was elsewhere. I raised an eyebrow at Orik when he approached me.

"Don't tell me the king has another priceless gift." Orik grinned again.

"This is just a simple gift, my lady. If you would please lean down to me." I sighed and leaned down towards the dwarf. Orik pulled out a plain, thin silver crown that had a thick silver wire wrapping around it and crystals sparkled around the circumference. Orik gingerly placed the crown on top of my hair that was braided into a crown. Go figure.

"I thought I said..." I started before shutting my mouth. "Thank you, Orik."

"Are you going to ever tell me why everyone is calling you your highness, or my lady?" Both Orik and I glanced at Eragon. "And why you just got a crown?"

"Do you mind waiting until we reach Ellesméra?" I asked as Arya swiftly walked up to us with Nasuada following shortly behind.

"You accepted," Nasuada said as she strode up to us. "I wondered if you would. Now once again, all three races have a hold on you. The dwarves can claim your allegiance as a member of Dûrgrimst Ingeitum, the elves will train and shape you—and their influence may be the strongest, for you and Saphira are bound by their magic—and you have sworn loyalty to me, a human... Perhaps it is best that we share your loyalty."

Nasuada passed Eragon a bag of coins, and Jörmundur extended a hand, which Eragon took.

"Have a good trip, Eragon. Guard yourself well." Jörmundur said before turning to me. "Please stay safe, your highness." I nodded and turned Tornac in the direction of the dark cave.

"Come," Arya said, walking in stride next to Tornac. "It is time to leave. Aiedail has set, and we have far to go."

I heard Eragon increase Snowfire's pace until he caught up with us. We continued until we reached the area that led to the Tarnag.

"Here is our path," Orik said, lifting his lantern. We continued forward into the long tunnel, and I hoped Eragon was going to be alright. His back was unpredictable. After two days of travel, we finally broke into the sunlight.

"That is Celbedeil, the greatest temple of dwarfdom and home of Dûrgrimst Quan—the Quan clan—who act as servants and messengers to the gods," Orik spoke up before Eragon opened his mouth.

"Do they rule Tarnag?" Saphira asked.

"Nay," Arya said. "Though the Quan are strong, they are small in numbers, despite their power over the afterlife... and gold. It is the Ragni Hefthyn—the River Guard—who control Tarnag. We will stay with their clan chief, Ûndin, while here."


	17. Chapter Fifteen: Iridescent

The path took us down to the edge of the crystal clear lake before rising back toward Tarnag and its open gates. Snowfire and Tornoc whinnied at the fresh air and started to prance about. We weren't the only ones happy to be in the open.

“How have you hidden Tarnag from Galbatorix?” Eragon asked. “Farthen Dûr I understand, but this... I’ve never seen anything like it.” Orik laughed before responding.

“Hide it? That would be impossible. No, after the Riders fell, we were forced to abandon all our cities aboveground and re-treat into our tunnels to escape Galbatorix and the Forsworn. They would often fly through the Beors, killing anyone who they encountered.”

“I thought that dwarves always lived underground.” Orik frowned with his brow furrowed.

“Why should we? We may have an affinity for stone, but we like the open air as much as elves or humans. However, it has only been in the last decade and a half, ever since Morzan died, that we have dared return to Tarnag and other of our ancient dwellings. Galbatorix may be unnaturally powerful, but even he would not attack an entire city alone. Of course, he and his dragon could cause no end of trouble if they wanted, but these days they rarely leave Urû’baen, even for short trips. Nor could Galbatorix bring an army here without first defeating Buragh or Farthen Dûr.”

"Which he nearly did," Saphira grumbled, letting out a puff of smoke through her nose. A goat-like creature burst through the underbrush in front of us with a dwarf on its back. An arrow was half strung on the dwarves bow.

“Hert dûrgrimst? Fild rastn?” The dwarf shouted.

“Orik Thrifkz menthiv oen Hrethcarach Eragon rak Dûrgrimst Ingei-tum,” Orik responded. “Wharn, az vanyali-carharûg Arya. Né oc Ûndinzgrimstbelardn.”

“Azt jok jordn rast,” The dwarf responded before he and his beast disappeared into the woods.

“What was that?” Eragon asked, amazed.

Orik, Arya, and I resumed walking. “A Feldûnost, one of the five animals unique to these mountains. A clan is named after each one. However, Dûrgrimst Feldûnost is perhaps the bravest and most revered of the clans.”

“Why so?”

“We depend upon Feldûnost for milk, wool, and meat. Without their sustenance, we could not live in the Beors. When Galbatorix and his traitorous Riders were terrorizing us, it was Dûrgrimst Feldûnost who risked themselves—and still do—to tend the herds and fields. As such, we are all in their debt.”

“Do all dwarves ride Feldûnost?” Eragon asked, stumbling slightly over the unusual word.

“Only in the mountains. Feldûnost are hardy and sure-footed, but they are better suited for cliffs than open plains.”

Now the path that had concealed us for so long under dark boughs entered the great clearing that surrounded Tarnag. Groups of observers had already begun to gather in the fields when seven Feldûnost with jeweled harnesses bounded out from the city. Their riders held lances tipped with pennants that snapped like whips in the air.

“Thou art well-come to this city of Tarnag. By otho of Ûndin and Gannel, I, Thorv, son of Brokk, offer in peace the shelter of our halls.” The leader of the seven barked out.

“And by Hrothgar’s otho, we of the Ingeitum accept your hospitality,” Orik responded.

“As do we, in Islanzadí’s stead,” Arya added.

After a satisfied crossed Throv's face, he motioned to his fellow riders, who spurred their Feldûnost into formation around the five of us. With a flourish, the dwarves rode off, guiding us to Tarnag and through the city gates. I looked at the walls that surrounded Tarnag. They were at least forty feet thick. This was a sturdy city.

Unlike the walls of the city, the inside was dazzling with different hues of stone shining underneath the sun. We proceeded through the city until we neared the hall, Eragon dismounted Snowfire before coming to help me out of the saddle.

As much as I hated it, I needed help with a lot of things since my arm and hand barely worked anymore. Not to mention that I am going to have to get used to fighting with my left hand. I straightened out my clothes and made sure Hrothgar's gift was still on my head before following Eragon into the hall.

“Welcome to Tarnag, home of Dûrgrimst Ragni Hefthyn. We have heard much praise of you, Eragon Shadeslayer. I am Ûndin, son of Derûnd and clan chief.” Another dwarf stepped forward.

“And I, Gannel, son of Orm Blood-ax and clan chief of Dûrgrimst Quan.”

“It is an honor to be your guests,” Eragon said as he inclined his head. The two dwarves then turned to Arya and me with a greeting before turning to Orik. Orik opened his and to reveal an iron ring, the chief's eyes widened. Ûndin gingerly picked the ring up

“Who gave this to you?”

“It was Az Sweldn rak Anhûin. And not to me, but Eragon.” Alarm spread throughout the room. “We must consult on this issue. Shadeslayer, a feast is prepared in your honor. If you would allow my servants to guide you to your quarters, you can refresh yourself, and then we might begin.”

At the first hint of light in the sky overhead Alethea waked me up with a quiet squeak, we were finally leaving for the lake. I secured everything I had to Tornoc's saddlebags as some dwarves wrapped cloth around his hooves so we would be quiet.

Eragon helped me up into the saddle before getting on Snowfire. The dwarves formed a box around us as we silently made our way to the gate. We made it out of the city without a problem and headed straight for the lake were rafts were being prepared. Tornoc was not going to like this.

Eragon helped me off of Tornoc, and our two horses were blindfolded and hobbled before being tied securely to a raft. Behind us, Saphira got into the water and started to paddle around with only her head visible. Eragon helped me onto one of the rafts, and we pushed odd from the lakeside and started down the river.

We finally reached land, and I could tell that the dwarves were relieved, and so were the horses. I stroked Tornoc's face sending calm and soothing feeling to him. It took us three day's to reach the forest and another three to reach the Edda River.

Flowers bloomed around us in stunning beauty, the full moon above our heads made them even more beautiful. Arya, who was at the front of our group, held up a hand for us to halt.

“Stop here,” Arya said in a low voice. “Come forth, my brethren! You have nothing to fear. ’Tis I, Arya of Ellesméra. My companions are friends and allies; they mean us no harm.” There was a response in Elvish that was so fast I was unable to comprehend what was said. "I do."

Elves dropped from the trees and began to dance around Arya in excitement. When Saphira walked up to us all of their weapons went up in alarm, Arya quickly talked in elvish which made the elves drop their weapons. Eragon removed his glove and shoes his insignia.

“Eka fricai un Shur’tugal." I am a Rider and friend. "Atra esterní ono thelduin." The elves face's lit up, and we were soon being directed through the small village. I ended up in a hut with several female elves who were helping me change into a fresh set of clothes. I quickly pulled on a new pair of gloves before any of them could see my mark.

I was directed towards a campfire where my group was sitting. Eragon's eyes landed on me, and his face was full of concern.

"Are you okay, Mal?" I gave him a strained smile. In honesty, I was exhausted.

"I'm fine, but I think I need to get some rest." Eragon gave me another concerned look while I was directed to a soft forest bed made of leaves. I laid down as gently as I could and stared at the trees until I fell asleep.

I was sitting in one of the elves boats feeling incredibly guilty about parting ways with Tornoc.

"You will see him again my Rider." I smiled and slipped my good hand into my bag to rub Alethea's head.

"We're almost home Lee, we're almost home."

I sat behind Eragon as we rode through the woods, according to Arya, we were close to Ellesmíra. My body was in turmoil, half of me was excited to be home finally, and the other half was terrified. Would they accept a crippled half-elf?

"Stop thinking about that my rider."

"I'm crippled Alethea. The elves will not like a crippled half-elf in their midst."

"You are a Rider, my Rider. They will show you respect!" Alethea growled. I smiled at her attitude as we came across an elf dressed in flowing robes and a silver crown.

“Eragon,” Arya murmured. “Show him your palm and your ring.”

Eragon lifted his right hand and showed Brom's ring before twisting his hand to show his gedwëy ignasia. The elf smiled, opened his arms welcomingly.

“The way is clear,” Arya said before commanding her horse to move forward. The horse Eragon and I were riding followed suit with Orik bringing up the rear. As we passed the elf, he disappeared in a flash of light.

"Who is he?"

“He is Gilderien the Wise, Prince of House Miolandra, wielder of the White Flame of Vándil, and guardian of Ellesméra since the days of Du Fyrn Skulblaka, our war with the dragons. None may enter the city unless he permits it.” Arya responded, answering Saphira's question as we proceeded through the forest.

After traveling a bit further, sunlight started to poke through the canopy. We broke through a tunnel-like tree and were greeted by a large field of flowers. Hordes of bumblebees swarmed around the glittering flowers, and a small stream bubbled to our right.

Eragon swiveled his head, taking in the beauty of the elf city. If I weren't part elf, I would be just as amazed as he was. Houses dotted the woods surrounding the field, blending in with the trees they were built on. One by one, the elves started to appear from the woods; in their eyes, I saw wariness and distrust.

Eragon and I touched our lips in greeting, the entire group of elves bowed at the same time before smiling and laughing. Eragon clapped his hands over his ears when one of the elven women started to sing.

Gala O Wyrda brunhvitr,

Abr Berundal vandr-fódhr,

Burthro laufsblädar ekar undir,

Eom kona dauthleikr...

“It is not magic,” Arya said to Eragon before turning to the horse she had been riding. “Gánga. Release your steeds as well. We have no further need for them, and they deserve to rest in our stables.”

Eragon slid off the horse before helping me down, as soon as my feet touched the ground I felt a calming aura. Home. I rechecked that my hood was still up as Eragon released the horse we had been riding.

We started down a cobblestone path that wound its way through the city. The elves pranced around us, praising Saphira with names like Longclaws and Daughter of Air and Fire.

"How is that done?" Eragon asked, pointing to one of the smoothly shaped tree houses.

"We sing to the forest in the old tongue and give it our strength to grow in the shape that we desire. All our buildings and tools are made in that manner.” Arya replied smartly. The path ended at a hall of overlapping branches, on either side of us, twelve chairs filled with Lords and Ladies sat in silence.

As we proceeded down the long hall, the elves leaned forward, looking at us with indescribable faces. I turned my head back to the front where Queen Islanzadí sat with an older version of me sitting next to her.

"You do look like her. It is somewhat disturbing." Alethea purred in my head. "There is no doubt. You are a princess, my Rider."

"I hate being called a princess. It makes me feel like they think I am a dimwitted twit." I grumbled back while eyeing the white raven sitting next to the queen.

“Wyrda!” I resisted the urge to flinch when the raven screeched. Arya knelt and bowed with me following seconds later and the others behind us following suit. Even Saphira bowed. My aunt rose from her throne, and gracefully walked towards Arya and me.

“Rise.” Arya rose, grabbing my arm and pulling me up with her. “O my daughter, I have wronged you!”

“Islanzadí Dröttning,” Arya responded formally, the queen drew back like she had been shocked.

“O my daughter, I have wronged you. Ever since you disappeared, I’ve barely slept or eaten. I was haunted by your fate and feared that I would never see you again. Banning you from my presence was the greatest mistake I have ever made. Can you forgive me?”


	18. Chapter Sixteen: Iridescent

Arya was not quick with her response; the elves around us looked at us with amazement and excitement.

“For seventy years, I have lived and loved, fought, and killed without ever speaking to you, my mother. Our lives are long, but even so, that is no small span.” Izlanzaí lifted her chin and went stiff.

“I cannot undo the past, Arya, no matter how much I might desire to.”

“And I cannot forget what I endured.”

“Nor should you.” Islanzadí grabbed Arya's hands. “Arya, I love you. You are one of my small family. Go if you must, but unless you wish to renounce me, I would be reconciled with you.”

“No, Mother. I could not leave.” Islanzadí smiled, embraced her daughter again. I let out a breath that I had been holding. "There is someone I wish to present to the court."

Arya turned towards me and gave me a slight nod, showtime. Using my gloved left hand, I gently pulled my hood down and shook my hair-free. There was a short scream, and I soon had an elf clinging to me like her life depended on it.

"My daughter! Can you find it in your heart to forgive me for what I have done!?!"

"There isn't anything for me to forgive," I said gently while hugging the shaking elf. "You did it for a logical and sound reason. You have done nothing wrong, mother."

"But I-"

"You did that because it was the safest route for me. I am not angry."

"We welcome you home, niece. I am very grateful you were able to come home." Izlanzadí said with elation.

"As am I, aunt," I responded, bowing my head. I felt Eragon's shock from behind me, well at least he knows now.

“And on the door was graven evermore, what now became the family lore, Let us never do but to adore!" The white raven crowed.

“Hush, Blagden,” Islanzadí said to the raven. “Keep your doggerel to yourself.” The queen then turned back towards Eragon and Saphira.

“You must excuse me for being discourteous and ignoring you, our most important guests.”

Eragon touched his lips and then twisted his right hand over his sternum. “Islanzadí Dröttning. Atra esterní ono thelduin.”

“Atra du evarínya ono varda.” Izlanzadí responded softly.

“Un atra mor’ranr lífa unin hjarta onr.” Izlanzadí then turned to Saphira.

“Dragon, what is your name?”

"Saphira."

Welcome to Ellesméra, Saphira. And yours, Rider?”

“Eragon Shadeslayer, Your Majesty."

“You carry a powerful name,” Izlanzadí responded softly. “One that we rarely bestow upon our children... Welcome to Ellesméra, Eragon Shadeslayer. We have waited long for you.”

Islanzadí greeted Orik before returning to her seat.

“I assume by your presence here, Eragon, so soon after Saphira’s egg and the other was captured, and by the ring on your hand and the sword on your hip, that Brom is dead and that your training with him was incomplete. I wish to hear your full story, including how Brom fell and how you came to meet my daughter, or how she met you, as it may be as well as what happened to the other egg. Then I will hear of your mission here, dwarf, and of your adventures, Arya, since your ambush in Du Weldenvarden.”

Eragon narrated our experiences but looked at me when it was time to address the question about the other egg.

"Aunt," I said, stepping forward. "There is no white egg to look for." Confusion and panic went around the entire assembly.

"What happened to the egg, niece?" I resisted the urge to smile.

"Your turn Alethea." Alethea let out a thunderous squeak that startled everyone in the hall before wiggling her way out of my pack to sit on my shoulder with her tail curled around my neck. There were several gasps of surprise as Alethea jumped off my shoulder to get big enough to look Islanzadí in the eye.

When she was big enough, Alethea bowed her glittering head in greeting. Straightening up Alethea swiveled her body and soared back to my shoulder.

"You're a Rider." I nodded at my aunt as I rubbed Alethea's head.

"Alethea hatched at the same time Saphira did. She's been keeping a low profile with the current events unfolding." I heard Orik sputtering behind me and refrained a smile. "Eragon, Nasuada's scroll?"

Eragon fished Nasuada's scroll out of his pack and handed it to Islanzadí. She broke the red wax seal and read the letter.

“I see now the true depth of my folly. My grief would have ended so much sooner if I had not withdrawn our warriors and ignored Ajihad’s messengers after learning that Arya had been ambushed. I should have never blamed the Varden for her death. For one so old, I am still far too foolish....”

“Since Arya has returned alive, will you agree to help the Varden, like before? Nasuada cannot succeed otherwise, and I am pledged to her cause.” Eragon said, mustering up the courage to ask the question.

“My quarrel with the Varden is as dust in the wind,” Islanzadí said, much to Eragon's relief. “Fear not; we will assist them as we once did, and more, because of you and their victory over the Urgals. Will you give me Brom’s ring, Eragon?”

Eragon quickly slipped the ring off his finger and offered it to Islanzadí.

“You should not have worn this, Eragon, as it was not meant for you. However, because of the aid you have rendered the Varden and my family, I now name you Elf Friend and bestow this ring, Aren, upon you, so that all elves, wherever you go, will know that you are to be

trusted and helped.”

Eragon thanked her and returned the ring to his finger.

“Such tidings as yours, we have not heard the like of in Du Weldenvarden for many a year. We are accustomed to a slower way of life here than the rest of Alagaësia, and it troubles me that so much could occur so swiftly without word of it reaching my ear.”

“And what of our training?” Eragon asked. "I haven't much training and Mal knows even less since she and Alethea haven't been able to fly in a long time.

“It will begin in the fullness of time. Yet I fear that instructing you is futile so long as your infirmity persists. Unless you can overcome the Shade’s magic, you will be reduced to no more than a figurehead. You may still be useful, but only as a shadow of the hope that we have nurtured for over a century. Your situation is not your fault, and it pains me to voice such things, but you must understand the gravity of your disability... I am sorry.” Islanzadí said before turning to Orik.

“It has been long since one of your race entered our halls, dwarf. Eragon-finiarel has explained your presence, but do you have aught to add?”

“Only royal greetings from my king, Hrothgar, and a plea, now unneeded, for you to resume contact with the Varden. Beyond that, I am here to see that the pact that Brom forged between you and the humans is honored.”

“We keep our promises whether we utter them in this language or in the ancient language. I accept Hrothgar’s greetings and return them in kind. Now, daughter, niece, what befell you?” Arya narrated exactly what had happened to her during her capture, while the elves in the hall remained silent, I could feel their tension.

A tear rolled down Islanzaí cheek as Arya finished her story, the attention of the room then went to me. I explained what happened since we left Carvahal, when I got to the battle at Farthen Dur, I paused. I would be straight up telling them that my right arm is crippled.

"Your injury won't deter your families love for you my Rider."

"During the battle between Eragon and the Shade Durza, the Shade recognized me and had the Urgals pin me down." I glanced at Eragon, he had a tight faced look, as if he was reliving the ordeal. I focused my eyes back on Islanzadí. "The Urgals struck one of their spears in my right shoulder as insurance that I wouldn't go anywhere. While the wound has healed, my entire right arm is barely usable."

A pacing elf lord walked towards us with a determined look on his face.

“I know that I speak for us all, Arya and Khensamel Dröttningu, when I say that my heart burns with sorrow for your ordeals. It is a crime beyond apology, mitigation, or reparation, and Galbatorix must be punished for it. Arya, we are in your debt for keeping the locations of our cities hidden from the Shade. Few of us could have withstood him for so long.”

“Thank you, Däthedr-vor.” Arya responded while I bowed my head at the elf.

“Enough. Our guests wait tired on their feet, and we have spoken of evil things for far too long. I will not have this occasion marred by lingering on past injuries.” Islanzadí said sternly before her face melted into a smile. “My daughter has returned as well as my niece, two dragons and their Riders have appeared, and I will see us celebrate in the proper fashion!”

Islanzadí stood tall and clapped her hands. At the sound of her hands, lilies and roses rained down on our heads. I looked up at the shower of flowers and felt a rush of relief.

"We made it Lee." 

"Then why are you still showered with sorrow?" I bit my lip at Alethea's question.

"I guess Murtagh was more important to me than I originally thought. I wish I had more control of my emotions, this is distracting and only makes me feel worse."

"If he is dead, why do you still feel his presence?" I frowned at the image Alethea was giving me.

"You think that he must have been taken? It would make sense, it looked like someone had died, but there was no body. That would mean he is probably in my 'oh so lovable' fathers hands. That is not good. He's going to get killed for leaving or at least severely beaten."

"Break him out then."

"Alethea, we can't just go flying into Ûru Baen and take him back. We'll get ourselves killed. We need to plan this out and then train our butts off. It's going to be a long, difficult road..."

"Is he worth it?"

"Is he worth it? ..... Yes, he is."

"Then we will train, become stronger, and then break him out my Rider. He is yours." I froze.

"Since when has he been mine!?!" Alethea sent me waves of smugness.

"Since you two became an unofficial couple."

"What?"

"It was clear to everyone; why do you think you got so many teasing looks? Everyone figured you two would end up together." Saphira said, entering our conversation.

"Am I seriously talking about this with two dragons?"

"It's better than talking to Eragon," Saphira stated smugly. I rolled my eyes and let out a huff.

"Fine, I am talking about this with two dragons. Are you in on our plan Saphira?"

"Of course," Saphira responded with a dragon huff, which also startled some nearby elves.

"Thank you. The fewer people that know about this, the better, this needs to stay between us if it's going to work."

"Mal?" I was brought out of my mind conversation with the two dragons to see Eragon standing in front of me. "Are you okay? You spaced out for a couple of minutes."

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and smiled at Eragon.

"Sorry, I was having a conversation with Alethea, I guess I got sucked into it." A look of understanding crossed Eragon's face before he became focused again.

"So was the whole 'you're related to Arya who happens to a princess which makes you a princess' the thing you wanted to talk to me about?" I bit my lip and nodded with a semi guilty face.

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner, but it was one of the things that the fewer people who know about it, the safer I am." Eragon gave me a look of understanding. "On the plus side, I don't have to hide anything anymore."

"If you don't mind me asking, who is your father?" I froze before sighing.

"I guess I should tell you. I am currently the only heir to the throne of Alageasia." Eragon frowned while he processes what I had said and his jaw dropped open when he figured it out.

"That means that Galbatorix is your father!!!" I nodded before looking at my hands.


	19. Chapter Seventeen: Iridescent

"There was a time that my mother did love him. It didn't take her long to figure out that the man she loved was a monster. She left me in Carvahall because it was dangerous for both of us. If we had been seen, I am sure she would have gotten dragged back to Ûru Baen, and I would have been at Galbatorix's mercy."

"That explains why she was so emotional. You are the spitting image of her, and it is unnerving having two Mals walking around." I laughed at what the future could be like.

"I suppose it is," I responded as Islandazí made a brief declaration. Eragon frowned and turned to Narí.

"What did she say?" Narí smiled before answering.

"To break open our finest casks and light the cook-fires, for tonight shall be a night of feast and song. Come!" Narí grabbed Eragon's arm and dragged him off into the celebration. I took a seat next to my mother and stayed mostly quiet during the celebration, watching what it was like to be an elf.

"It is late, I am tired, and I would return to my tower. Accompany me, Khensamel, Alethea, Saphira and Eragon, and I will show you where you may sleep tonight."

I stood up from the table and followed after Islanzadí. We reached the base of a giant tree.

"You needs must fly there, Saphira. Our stairs were not grown with dragons in mind." Saphira took flight and disappeared into the wood. "This is where the leader of the Dragon Riders would dwell while in Ellesméra. I give it to you now, for you are the rightful heir to that title... It is your inheritance."

Islanzadí swept past the tree and continued down the cobblestone road. I gave Eragon an assuring smile before following after my aunt. We continued until we came across an ornately carved tree.

"This is where Wënyalín hoped you would reside when you returned to us." I looked up at the tree before bowing my head at Islanzadí.

"Thank you for the space in which my dragon and I will reside."

"You do not need to be so formal Khensamel."

"Old habits die hard, and you can call me Mal," I replied with a small smile.

"Just like your mother," Islanzadí sighed before she and Arya continued down the path. Alethea curled her tail around my neck in comfort.

"You made a promise my Rider."

"I did, didn't I," I responded softly before heading up the wood steps. Every part of the house was ornately carved or decorated. I ran my hand up the smooth railing. Elven magic was stunning. I reached the top. It was open and spacious, leaving plenty of room for Alethea to glide around in her small form.

I walked over to the large opening at the back of the room and leaned out. I could hear the elves still celebrating. Their singing was relaxing and calmed my frayed nerves.

"Pardon our intrusion, my lady," I turned around to see two elves bowing. "Queen Islanzadí has sent us to assist you during your stay."

"Well, as much as I hate to admit it, I will be needing assistance changing my clothes. It can be hard trying to dress oneself with one hand, not to mention I am sure you two are more adept in what clothing is appropriate to wear."

"Of course, my lady." The two said nodding their heads.

"What are your names?"

"I am Karí, and this is Nearí, my lady."

"I am unaccustomed to the elven way of life, and I hope you can help me adjust to this change. First things first, I need to get clean, I feel like I rolled in the dirt with a horse." I said with a slight grumble. "I may travel with male company, but that doesn't mean I have to smell like it."

A small smile appeared on their faces before the bowed their heads.

"Of course, I will draw you a bath while Nearí helps you out of your traveling clothes," Karí said with a bow before disappearing into a room to the right. I started loosening the leather cord that kept my wrist guards on while Nearí started to unknot the leather corset in the back.

"Is your right arm your sword arm?" Nearí asked as the layers of leather that acted like armor were peeled off.

"Unfortunately, yes, it is."

"Karí and I will adjust your wardrobe to suit your current condition better my lady. I can tell you are concerned with your arm. Please do not worry. We are grateful that you managed to return alive, it matters not if you can't use that arm."

I shrugged of clothes until I was just in my basic tunic and pants.

"Would you like me to take off your necklace?" My left hand went to the necklace.

I gingerly undid the knot and held it in front of me. The leather still looked intact.

"This necklace has great importance to you, doesn't it, my lady?" I sighed before handing it over.

"Yes, it does. I am afraid that I'll wear through the leather at some point."

"Your bath is ready my lady," Karí said while gliding into the room. "I think you might want to take this off."

Karí lifted my forgotten crown off my head.

"I completely forgot that I was wearing that," I muttered before heading into the bathing area. Steam was wafting out of a wooden tub that sat in the middle of the room. I pulled my tunic and pants of before stepping into the tub and relaxing at its warmth. "I think I almost forgot what hot water feels like."

I hugged myself while resting my head on my knees. I had a lot of work ahead of me, and it wasn't going to be comfortable with my shoulder. Nearí and Karí both helped speed up my cleaning process. One washed my extremely long hair while the other transformed my turned my rough skin into soft, supple skin.

After my bath, I was given a nightgown made of the softest material I had ever felt. The straps were thin and let the soft breeze flow across my shoulders. My black hair was brushed into one long braid and Nearí, and Karí had even prepared a small bath for Alethea.

"You two are spoiling us," I commented as Alethea flew around the room chirping with happiness. "I think we'll be fine for the night, thank you for the help." The two elves bowed before quietly leaving the room.

I walked over to the balcony like area and looked down. I was pretty high up off the ground, perfect. Alethea shot out of the room as I launched my body over the side of the railing. I wrapped my arms around Alethea's neck as she grew to her full size and started to coast around the city.

"You can try and get some sleep while I stretch my wings."

"Wake me up if you need anything, Lee," I responded before closing my eyes and resting my cheek against Alethea's scales.

I woke up to a soft nose nuzzling my face. I opened my eyes to see Alethea blinking at me in her baby size. I pushed myself into a sitting position and looked around. I was curled up at the center of the bed in my room.

"Did you bring me here by yourself?" Alethea lazily blinked at me.

"Yes." She was smug about it. I let out a huff of laughter and ran my fingers down her back. "Nearí and Karí left you breakfast."

I slipped of my bed and padded over to where a tray of food was sitting. I picked at the fruit bowl while Alethea zipped around the room.

"Did you get something to eat?"

"Yes, I ate earlier while you were still sleeping. Nearí and Karí should be back soon to help you get dressed for the day." I finished off the fruit just as the two elves entered my room. This time I was changed into a long tunic with grey pants, the material was the softest thing I had ever felt.

I was given soft leather boots to replace my weathered and tattered old ones while Karí braided my hair back out of my face. When Karí was done braiding my hair, I felt her put the crown King Hrothgar gifted to me on my head. I will never get used to being a princess.

"Queen Islanzadí will be expecting you at the base of the stairs."

"Thank you Nearí, Karí I shouldn't be needing any more help until tonight."

"One more thing, my lady." I looked at Karí, she was holding Murtagh's necklace, and it looked like it had just been made. "Forgive us for not asking for your permission, but we had the necklace enchanted last night, it won't fray or get dull."

I stared at the necklace, trying very hard not to drop my jaw at how well-crafted it looked. Karí strung it back around my neck.

"The only thing I have to say is that I am eternally thankful for your consideration," I said quietly, running my fingers along the now smooth leather. Both elves smiled and shook their heads.

"You need not thank us, my lady."

"Yes, I do. This necklace means the world to me."

"Is he gone?" Karí asked softly. I pursed my lips. "The man that this necklace belongs to."

"No, he isn't." I murmured darkly. "He is just out of my reach. I will see you tonight, have a good day." I quickly exited my room and headed down the stairs. I reached the bottom to greet Islanzadí and Arya.

"I hope Karí and Nearí are treating you well." I smiled and shook my head, Alethea sneezed from my shoulder.

"They are spoiling us rotten. I can tell something is weighing on your mind, is everything alright?"

"There is something I need to show you and Eragon, but it can't be spoken to outsiders."

"Am I an outsider?" Islanzadí shook her head.

"Nay, you are not. What I wish to show you is the last elven dragon rider, Oromis, and his dragon Glaedr." My eyes went huge.

"They couldn't have gotten out of the war without injury." Islanzadí grimly nodded.

"They were lucky to escape and get to healers in time. It is my hope that Oromis can pass on his teachings."

After I learned of Oromis, we headed for Eragon's tree with Alethea flying around our heads in happiness. She was elated that there was another dragon, one that she could learn from.

We didn't wait long until Eragon and Orik walked down the staircase. Eragon donned a deep russet tunic, and by the look on his face, I could tell he was happy to be in fresh, new clothes. Greetings were made before Islanzadí glided down the path with us following. The further we went out, the fewer buildings you saw, before a hill Islanzadí turned to Eragon.

"Before we go any farther, the three of you must swear in the ancient language that you will never speak to outsiders of what you are about to see, not without permission from me, my daughter, my niece, or whoever may succeed us to the throne." I cringed at the thought of ruling Du Weldenvarden.

"Why should I gag myself?" Orik demanded.

"Why, indeed? Do you not trust us?" Saphira asked.

"It is not a matter of trust but safety. We must protect this knowledge at all costs—it's our greatest advantage over Galbatorix—and if the ancient language binds you, you will never willingly reveal our secret. You came to supervise Eragon's training, Orik-vodhr. Unless you give me your word, you may as well return to Farthen Dûr."

"I believe that you mean no harm to dwarves or the Varden, else I would never agree. And I hold you to the honor of your hall and clan that this isn't a ploy to deceive us. Tell me what to say." Orik finally spoke. Eragon shot me a look before he and Saphira reiterated the oath.

"Thank you," Islanzadí said with a sigh. "Now, we may proceed."

We started walking, and I got ambushed by Eragon.

"I'm not saying anything until you see it for yourself," I said sternly, walking after Islanzadí and Arya. We reached the top and looked down at forest thousands of feet below us.

Thud. The air swirled around us as Glaedr beat his massive wings. I might not have seen him yet, but by the sounds of his wings, he is going to be very large.

Thud.

Thud. Eragon jammed his fingers in his ears while the rest of us stood motionless.

Thud.

Thud. A glittering, gold mass rose into the air in front of us. Glaedr.


	20. Chapter Eighteen: Iridescent

"He's so big!" Alethea squawked in amazement. While she was fawning over the size of Glaedr, my eyes were fixed on the elf that sat on the dragon. My eyes traveled to what was left of Glaedr's front leg. It was just a mass of white scarred tissue. I heard Eragon gasp. He must have finally seen Glaedr's stump.

Glaedr landed, and Oromis carefully made his way to the ground before approaching Eragon and me.

"Osthato Chetowä," Eragon said. "The Mourning Sage... As you asked, I have come. Atra esterní ono thelduin."

Oromis smiled at Eragon lifted him by the shoulders back to his feet.

"Oromis is my proper name, Eragon Shadeslayer." He then turned to me. "Khensamel Dröttningu, I have long hoped that we would meet."

"You knew," Islanzadí whispered with a hurt expression that quickly transformed into a storm of rage. "You knew of Eragon's and Khensamel's existence, and yet you did not tell me? Why have you betrayed me, Shur'tugal?"

"I kept my peace because it was uncertain if Eragon, Khensamel, or Arya would live long enough to come here; I had no wish to give you a fragile hope that might have been torn away at any moment." Islanzadí spun around, sending her cape of swan feathers flying.

"You had no right to withhold such information from me! I could have sent warriors to protect Arya, Khensamel, Alethea, Eragon, and Saphira in Farthen Dûr and to escort them safely here."

Oromis smiled sadly at the irate Islanzadí. "I hid nothing from you, Islanzadí, but what you had already chosen not to see. If you had scryed the land, as is your duty, you would have discerned the source of the chaos that has swept Alagaësia and learned the truth of Arya and Eragon. That you might forget the Varden and the dwarves in your grief is understandable, but Brom? Vinr Älfakyn? The last of the Elf Friends? You have been blind to the world, Islanzadí, and lax upon your throne. I could not risk driving you further away by subjecting you to another loss."

Islanzadí's anger drained away, leaving her face pale and her shoulders slumped. "I am diminished." Glaedr bent his head down to look at Eragon and me.

"We are well met, Eragon Shadeslayer. Khensamel Dröttningu. I am Glaedr."

"I am honored." Eragon and I murmured. Glaedr then moved his attention to Saphira and Alethea. He sniffed both of them.

"You smell of humans," Glaedr rumbled. "and all you know of your own race is what your instincts have taught you, but you two have the heart of a true dragon."

Oromis turned his attention back to Eragon and me, glancing at Islanzadí

"Islanzadí Dröttning, by your leave?"

"Go," She responded wearily. "Go and be done with you." Glaedr crouched low to the ground, allowing Oromis to nimbly climbed up his leg and into the saddle on his back. "Come, Eragon and Saphira. Khensamel and Alethea. We have much to talk about."

The gold dragon leaped off the cliff and circled overhead, rising on an updraft. Eragon turned to Orik and clasped arms "Bring honor to your clan,"

I vaulted up Alethea's side shortly before she dived off of the cliff and spiraled her way up to Glaedr's altitude. When Saphira and Eragon joined us in the air, Oromis and Glaedr banked north. We flew for several miles until we reached an area that held a small wooden hut. A small stream bubbled away to the right of the hut and disappeared into the forest.

Glaedr and Saphira landed while Alethea got smaller and smaller, I dropped to the grass beside Saphira.

"Welcome to my home, I live here, on the brink of the Crags of Tel' naeír, because it provides me the opportunity to think and study in peace. My mind works better away from Ellesméra and the distractions of other people."

Oromis disappeared into hit hut before walking out with three stools and three glasses of water. Eragon and I both accepted the water, and we sat down, I felt Eragon shaking with questions, but for once he didn't blurt out any questions.

"You have learned the value of patience well. That is good." Oromis said after a few minutes of silence.

"You can't stalk a deer if you are in a hurry," Eragon responded.

"That never stopped you from pestering Brom with questions," I responded pragmatically. Eragon shot me a look while Oromis let out a small chuckle. "Though you have improved greatly since then Eragon, that makes me proud."

Eragon looked at me in surprise.

"I do not lie; you are no longer the boy that left Carvahal. You have grown more than you think."

"Well said, young Dröttningu. Eragon, let me see your hands. I find that they tell me much about a person." Eragon removed his gloves and allowed Oromis to wrap his fingers around his wrists. Oromis started examining the calluses on Eragon's hands. "Correct me if I am wrong. You have wielded a scythe and plow more often than a sword, though you are accustomed to a bow."

"Aye."

"And you have done little writing or drawing, maybe none at all."

"Brom taught me my letters in Teirm."

"Mmm. Beyond your choice of tools, it seems obvious that you tend to be reckless and disregard your own safety."

"What makes you say that, Oromis-elda?"

"Not elda. You may call me master in this tongue and ebrithil in the ancient language, nothing else. You will extend the same courtesy to Glaedr. We are your teachers; you are our students; you will act with proper respect and deference." Oromis corrected Eragon.

"Yes, Master Oromis."

"As will you, Saphira."

"Yes, Master."

"Now. Anyone with such a collection of scars has either been hopelessly unfortunate, fights like a berserker, or deliberately pursues danger. Do you fight like a berserker?"

"No."

"Nor do you seem unfortunate; quite the opposite. That leaves only one explanation. Unless you think differently?" Eragon frowned as he thought about what cords to say.

"I would say, rather, that once I dedicate myself to a certain project or path, I see it through, no matter the cost... especially if someone I love is in danger." Eragon's eyes flicked toward Saphira.

"And do you undertake challenging projects?"

"I like to be challenged."

"So you feel the need to pit yourself against adversity to test your abilities."

"I enjoy overcoming challenges, but I've faced enough hardship to know that it's foolish to make things more difficult than they are. It's all I can do to survive as it is."

"Yet you chose to follow the Ra'zac when it would have been easier to remain in Palancar Valley. And you came here."

"It was the right thing to do... Master." We lapsed into silence for several minutes.

"Were you, perchance, given a trinket of some kind in Tarnag, Eragon? A piece of jewelry, armor, or even a coin?"

"Aye." Eragon reached inside of his tunic and fished out the necklace with the tiny silver hammer Hrothgar had given him. "Gannel made this for me on Hrothgar's orders, to prevent anyone from scrying Saphira or me. They were afraid that Galbatorix might have discovered what I look like... How did you know?"

"Because," Oromis started. "I could no longer sense you."

"Someone tried to scry me by Sílthrim about a week ago. Was that you?"

Oromis shook his head. "After I first scryed you with Arya, I did not need to use such crude methods to find you. I could reach out and touch your mind with mine, as I did when you were injured in Farthen Dûr."

Oromis lifted the amulet and murmured several words in the ancient language. He let it go after twenty seconds. "It contains no other spells I can detect. Keep it with you at all times; it is a valuable gift. Khensamel, will you lend me your hands?"

I slid my gloves off and offered my hands. Just as he had done with Eragon, Oromis wrapped his slender fingers around my wrists. There were several minutes of silence.

"You are your father's daughter." My eyes went wide, and every muscle in my body became taught. Oromis looked up with kind eyes. "You are what he should have been child. It is your choice whether or not to follow in his footsteps."

"I will never be that kind of Rider." I hissed out angrily. "We are keepers of the peace, not rulers." Oromis smiled gently at my hissed words.

"Then stop worrying that you will turn into him, become the Rider you want to be. Focus on the principles that guided you here." He responded before turning to Eragon.

"Why are you here, Eragon?"

"To complete my training."

"And what do you think that process entails?"

Eragon shifted uncomfortably. "Learning more about magic and fighting. Brom wasn't able to finish teaching me everything that he knew."

"Magic, swordsmanship, and other such skills are useless unless you know how and when to apply them. This I will teach you. However, as Galbatorix has demonstrated, power without moral direction is the most dangerous force in the world. My main task, then, is to help you, Eragon and Saphira, to understand what principles guide you so that you do not make the right choices for the wrong reasons. You must learn more about yourself, who you are, and what you are capable of doing. That is why you are here."

"When do we begin?" Saphira asked. Oromis began to answer when he stiffened and dropped his glass. His face went red, and his fingers curled into claws. The change was frightening and instantaneous. Before Eragon or I could do more than flinch, the elf had relaxed again.

"Are you well?" Eragon asked both of our faces had worry spread across them. The corners of Oromis's mouth twitched.

"Less so than I might wish. We elves fancy ourselves immortal, but not even we can escape certain maladies of the flesh, which are beyond our knowledge of magic to do more than delay. No, do not worry... it isn't contagious, but neither can I rid myself of it." He sighed deeply.

"I have spent decades binding myself with hundreds of small, weak spells that, layered one upon another, duplicate the effect of enchantments that are now beyond my reach. I bound myself with them so that I might live long enough to witness the birth of the last dragons and to foster the Riders' resurrection from the ruin of our mistakes."

"How long until..." I swiftly elbowed Eragon in the ribs while Oromis rose an eyebrow.

"How long until I die? We have time, but precious little for you or me, especially if the Varden decide to call upon your help. As a result—to answer your question, Saphira—we will begin your instruction immediately, and we will train faster than any Rider ever has or ever will, for I must condense decades of knowledge into months and weeks."

"You do know," Eragon said, struggling against the embarrassment that made his face red. "About our... our own infirmity." He ground out the last word. "I am as crippled as you are, and Mal can barely use her right arm and hand."

"Eragon, you are only a cripple if you consider yourself one. I understand how you feel, but you must remain optimistic, for a negative outlook is more of a handicap than any physical injury. I speak from personal experience. Pitying yourselves serves neither you nor your dragons. I and the other spellweavers will study your malady to see if we might devise a way to alleviate it, but in the meantime, your training will proceed as if nothing were amiss."

I sighed in relief at the thought of Oromis and the other spell weavers working to help Eragon and I. Eragon however was not so convinced.

"The pain is unbearable," he frantically burst out. "It would kill me. I—"

"No, Eragon. It will not kill you. That much I know about your curse. However, we both have our duty; you to the Varden, Khensamel to the throne, and I to you. We cannot shirk it for the sake of mere pain. Far too much is at risk, and we can ill afford to fail."

Eragon shook his head with panic building in his body.

"Eragon. You must accept this burden freely. Have you no one or nothing that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for?" Eragon was quiet for five minutes. He must be thinking hard about this.

"I accept on behalf of those I fight for: the people of Alagaësia—of all races—who have suffered from Galbatorix's brutality. No matter the pain, I swear that I will study harder than any student you've had before."

The moment that Oromis and Glaedr were out of sight, Saphira burst with excitement. Alethea sent me an image of her rolling her eyes, I started laughing, and at one point, I almost slipped off of Alethea because I was laughing so hard. When I stopped laughing, Alethea and I exchanged memories of what we had learned today.

"Saphira better get over her excitement soon," Alethea mumbled subconsciously. I don't even think she realized that I had heard. I let her mumble her complaints about Saphira's behavior for the rest of the flight back to our room.

We reached the room, and Karí and Nearí immediately pounced on us. Karí set up a basin of hot water and promptly set Alethea in the water. I felt her surprise melt into contentment as the scalding water washed over her scales. Alethea put her entire body under the water except for her head and began to paddle around the basin, squeaking her thanks. Nearí put me in the exact same position.

"You may be a hard-working dragon rider, but you are still a princess! You're getting a bath after every training session!" Nearí ranted while undoing the elaborate braid that my hair was in. "No exceptions, my lady!"

"You two are spoiling us beyond reason," I muttered before sliding into the water and blowing bubbles.

"If this what a bath feels like I want more!" Alethea chirped.

"You can get as many baths as you want Lee," I responded with a grin. After my bath that cleansed the dirt and sweat from my body, Nearí helped me change into a nightgown. Shortly after I dismissed them for the night, I didn't want to keep them up late. I climbed my way to the center of my bed and pulled up the sheets, tomorrow was going to be the start of Eragon, and I's real training.


	21. Chapter Nineteen: Iridescent

Blinding pain burst from my shoulder. I shot up and gripped my right shoulder, attempting to clear my mind of the nightmare I had just seen. They were returning. I couldn't get the pain that the spear had caused out of my mind. It was making me irritable and tired.

It was still early morning, there was plenty of time to get to Oromis's hut, but I needed to clear my head right now. I struggled to get into my training clothes and was cursing myself when it came to tying the back.

"You should call for help."

"I will dress myself without help." I hissed. "I am not entirely crippled!"

"I never said you were. I said that you need to get help. You're not going get through this immediately. It takes time." I let out a sigh of defeat. "I have called Nearí and Karí."

"My lady, if you wanted to get dressed you could have called for us," Nearí said as she and Karí hurried into the room. They tied the back of the leather corset I was wearing.

"I have to learn how to this on my own," I muttered to myself. "I am not crippled."

"No one thinks your crippled my lady," Karí said as she started braiding my hair out of my face. "We are here to help you until you no longer need it."

"...Thank you, we'll see you tonight. Alethea loved the hot water last night and was wondering if she could have another bath tonight?"

"We will give Alethea a bath whenever she wishes it, my lady."

"Thank you," I murmured before heading down the wooden staircase. When I reached a space wide enough for her to fit, Alethea grew to her proper size and crouched down. I vaulted up her shoulder, and she took off, heading in the direction of Oromis's hut. Alethea dropped me off and then went to practice some moves Glaedr had taught her.

I sat down and crossed my legs, I then took a deep breath and tried to meditate the way Oromis had taught Eragon and I. I heard the birds chattering in the trees and mice that burrowed into the ground.

"Something is bothering you Khensamel, would you like to share with me?" I opened my eyes and looked up at Oromis, who was standing on my right.

"My dreams are troubling, Master. They keep me awake, and when I manage to fall asleep, they wake me back up with almost unbearable pain. I don't know how to keep them at bay. I usually only find peace if I am riding Alethea."

"What is the nature of your dreams."

"It's when Eragon was fighting Durza, he recognized me and had an Urgal pin me down by putting a spear through my shoulder. The memory replays in my mind, over and over. I can still feel it; I still feel how cold the rock floor was on my face, how all of the sounds from the fighting faded out and the only thing I could hear was Eragon's scream of pain when Durza cut his back." My ears rang as I dropped my head into my hands.

"I can still feel how the warm blood pooling onto the stone turned cold so quickly. I can still hear Druza's howl when Eragon stabbed Zar' roc right into his heart. I can still see Eragon, lying on his side in front of me while blood seeped through his wound after he killed Durza. I can't escape it. It's driving me mad."

"The only thing you can do to resolve this problem is to take back the power, find control."

"It is going to take time, isn't it, Master."

"Yes, unfortunately, this is something that you must overcome yourself." I sighed and closed my eyes.

"Thank you for listening Master." I went back to meditation and waited for Eragon to arrive. The two arrived much later. Oromis ran his fingers over the stitching and leather.

"Brom was always clever with his hands. Use this saddle when you must travel with great speed. But when comfort is allowed—" Oromis disappeared into his hut before walking out with a large molded saddle. "—use this. It was crafted in Vroengard and imbued with many spells so that it will never fail you in time of need."

Eragon staggered around after the saddle was placed in his hands. Eragon inspected the saddle and asked about straps of leather attached to the saddle.

"Those secure your wrists and arms so that you are not killed like a rat shaken to death when Saphira performs a complex maneuver." Glaedr rumbled as an explanation. Oromis helped Eragon take Saphira's current saddle off.

"Saphira, Alethea, you will go with Glaedr today, and I will work with Eragon and Khensamel here."

"As you wish," Saphira crowd before launching into the air. I smiled when I got an image of Alethea sighing.

"Learn well and have fun," I said before Alethea joined Saphira and Glaedr and the three of them disappeared to the north. Oromis wasted no time and marched us to a square of hard-packed dirt beneath a willow tree at the far side of the clearing. Eragon and I got in our squares as Oromis stood across from us.

"What I am about to show you is called the Rimgar, or the Dance of Snake and Crane. It is a series of poses that we developed to prepare our warriors for combat, although all elves use it now to maintain their health and fitness. The Rimgar consists of four levels, each more difficult than the last. We will start with the first."

Next, to me, Eragon got stiff as a board of wood.

"Relax," Oromis said gently. Eragon jerked open his hands and let them hang limply at the end of his still rigid arms. "I asked you to relax, Eragon. You can't do the Rimgar if you are as stiff as a piece of rawhide."

"Yes, Master," Eragon said with a grimace and reluctantly loosened his muscles and joints. I could tell that he still wasn't completely relaxed.

"Place your feet together and your arms at your sides. Look straight ahead. Now take a deep breath and lift your arms over your head so that your palms meet... Yes, like that. Exhale and bend down as far as you can, put your palms on the ground, take another breath... and jump back." Eragon and I did what he asked.

"Good. Breathe in and bend up, looking toward the sky... and exhale, lifting your hips until you form a triangle. Breathe in through the back of your throat... and out. In... and out. In..."

We went through the stances, and my arm only shook a little bit, Eragon was showing no signs of pain much to my relief. We continued through the first stage without stopping, and by the time we were done Eragon and I were covered in sweat.

"Let us wash the sweat from our limbs," Oromis said, addressing Eragon. "Khensamel, continue your meditation here."

I sat down and got into my meditative position as Oromis and Eragon disappeared. I went through the different light sources around my general vicinity. I felt Oromis return after a while, Eragon must be meditating. I continued to meditate until I felt Eragon eagerly make his way back to the clearing.

"And what did you hear, Eragon?" Eragon described what he heard, and I sighed, he didn't understand. "Is that all?"

"I...Yes, Ebrithil."

"And what about the other organisms in the earth and the air? Can you tell me what they were doing while your ants tended their droves?"

"No, Ebrithil."

"Therein lies your mistake. You must become aware of all things equally and not blinker yourself in order to concentrate on a particular subject. This is an essential lesson, and until you master it, you will meditate on the stump for an hour each day."

"How will I know when I have mastered it?"

"When you can watch one and know all. Khensamel, would you please join us." I unfolded my legs and stood up before heading into the hut where Eragon and Oromis waited. I sat down on the available stool as Oromis set parchment, ink, and a quill down in front of Eragon and I.

"So far, you have made do with incomplete knowledge of the ancient language. Not that any of us knows all the words in the language, but you must be familiar with its grammar and structure so that you do not kill yourself through an incorrectly placed verb or similar mistake. I do not expect you to speak our language like an elf—that would take a life-time—but I do expect you to achieve unconscious competence. That is, you must be able to use it without thinking."

"In addition, you must learn to read and write the ancient language. Not only will this help you to memorize words, it is an essential skill if you need to compose an especially long spell and you don't trust your memory, or if you find such a spell recorded and you want to use it. Let us start: What are the basic vowel sounds of the ancient language?"

"What?" Eragon asked as I cringed, Brom hadn't taught us the basic vowel sounds. Oromis instructed us on what the basic vowel sounds were, and we began to write them over and over.

"I've never needed very many words in my spells; Brom said it was a gift that I could do so much with just brisingr. I think the most I ever said in the ancient language was when I spoke to Arya in her mind and when I blessed an orphan in Farthen Dûr."

"You did what?" I exclaimed.

"You blessed a child in the ancient language?" Oromis asked in an alerted tone.

"Aye."

"Recite it for me," Eragon repeated his blessing, and a look of pure horror engulfed Oromis. "You used skölir! Are you sure? Wasn't it sköliro?"

"No, skölir. Why shouldn't I have used it? Skölir means shielded."

"That was no blessing but a curse," Oromis said with irritation. "The suffix o forms the past tense of verbs ending with r and i. Sköliro means shielded, but skölir means shield. What you said was 'May luck and happiness follow you and may you be a shield from misfortune.' Instead of protecting this child from the vagaries of fate, you condemned her to be a sacrifice for others, to absorb their misery and suffering so that they might live in peace."

Eragon's face went white.

"The effect a spell has isn't only determined by the word's sense, but also by your intent, and I didn't intend to harm—." Eragon started

"You cannot gainsay a word's inherent nature. Twist it, yes. Guide it, yes. But not contravene its definition to imply the very opposite." Oromis pressed his fingers together and stared at the table. "I will trust that you did not mean harm; else I would refuse to teach you further. If you were honest and your heart was pure, then this blessing may cause less evil than I fear, though it will still be the nucleus of more pain than either of us could wish."

"It may not undo my mistake," Eragon said. "but perhaps it will alleviate it; Saphira marked the girl on the brow, just like she marked my palm with the gedwëy ignasia." Oromis looked dumbstruck.

"One who bears the sign of the Riders, and yet is not a Rider. In all my years, I have never met anyone, such as the two of you. Every decision you make seems to have an impact far beyond what anyone could anticipate. You change the world with your whims."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Neither, it just is. Where is the babe now?"

"With the Varden, either in Farthen Dûr or Surda. Do you think that Saphira's mark will help her?"

"I know not," Oromis said. "No precedent exists to draw upon for wisdom."

"There must be ways to remove the blessing, to negate a spell." Eragon was almost to the point of pleading.

"There are. But for them to be most effective, you should be the one to apply them, and you cannot be spared here. Even under the best of circumstances, remnants of your magic will haunt this girl evermore. Such is the power of the ancient language." He paused. "I see that you understand the gravity of the situation, so I will say this only once: you bear full responsibility for this girl's doom, and, because of the wrong you did her, it is incumbent upon you to help her if ever the opportunity should arise. By the Riders' law, she is your shame as surely as if you had begotten her out of wedlock, a disgrace among humans if I remember correctly."

"Aye, I understand."

"Then we will speak of this no more."

"Yes, Ebrithil." We finished up our exercises and headed outside to meet up with our dragons. Glaedr turned a glittering eye at Eragon.

"What are the rules three to spotting downdrafts, and the rules five for escaping them?"

"I don't know," Eragon mumbled. Oromis turned to Saphira and confronted her.

"What creatures do ants farm, and how do they extract food from them?"

"I wouldn't know," Saphira grumbled.

"After all the two of you have done together, I would think that you had learned the most basic lesson of being Shur'tugal: Share everything with your partner. Would you cut off your right arm? Would you fly with only one wing? Never. Then why would you ignore the bond that links you? By doing so, you reject your greatest gift and your advantage over any single opponent. Nor should you just talk to each other with your minds, but rather mingle your consciousness's until you act and think as one. I expect both of you to know what either one of you is taught."

"What about our privacy?" Eragon objected.

"Privacy?" Glaedr rumbled. "Keep your thoughts to thyself when you leave here if it pleases you, but while we tutor you, you have no privacy."

Oromis then turned to Alethea, and before he even asked, she projected our mind share and the information we had exchanged. Glaedr turned to me. I did the same as Alethea had done to Oromis.

"Good," Glaedr grumbled. "You two already share consciousness."

Eragon turned back to Oromis with an apology.

"We won't disappoint you again."

"See that you don't. You will be tested tomorrow on what the other learned." Oromis procured a round wood bauble. "So long as you take care to wind it regularly, this device will wake you at the proper time each morning. Return here as soon as you have bathed and eaten."


	22. Chapter Twenty: Luminescent

Alethea and I quickly made our way back to our room were Nearí, and Karí had our bathes ready. Alethea dove straight for her water basin and went completely under before sticking her head out and paddling around. While Karí was attending to my dragon who was currently acting like a hatchling, Nearí helped me out of my sweaty clothes and into the hot water.

"How was your training?" I smiled at the information Alethea, and I had learned.

"Difficult, but very satisfying. There is so much to learn. I can't wait until tomorrow, Arya and I will be heading out into the city. I wouldn't expect us back until dusk."

"Of course, my lady." The two elves murmured as they finished helping me get dressed. Alethea hopped onto my shoulder right before I started to descend the staircase. Arya was waiting for me at the base of the tree, and we set out for Eragon and Saphira's room.

Arya went up the stairs to get Eragon while I stayed at the bottom of the tree. It wasn't long before the three of us were walking under the trees. We passed several elves that were working on various projects.

"What do most elves do for a living or profession?"

"Our strength with magic grants us as much leisure as we desire. We neither hunt nor farm, and, as a result, we spend our days working on mastering our interests, whatever they might be. Very little exists that we must strive for." Arya responded quietly as we entered an enclosed area with a blazing forge.

"Atra esterní ono thelduin." Arya murmured to the elf. "Rhunön-elda, I have brought you the two newest Riders, Eragon Shadeslayer and Khensamel Dröttningu."

"I heard you were dead," Rhunön responded in a raspy voice.

"When did you last leave your house, Rhunön?"

"You should know. It was that Midsummer's Feast you forced me to attend."

"That was three years ago."

"Was it?" Rhunön frowned as she banked the coals and covered them with a grated lid. "Well, what of it? I find company trying. A gaggle of meaningless chatter that...Why are we speaking this foul language? I suppose you want me to forge a sword for them? You know I swore to never create instruments of death again, not after that traitor of a Rider and the destruction he wreaked with my blade."

"Eragon already has a sword," said Arya. She raised her arm and presented Zar' roc to the smith.

Rhunön took Zar' roc with a look of wonder. She caressed the wine-red sheath, lingered on the black symbol etched into it, rubbed a bit of dirt from the hilt, then wrapped her fingers around the handle and drew the sword with all the authority of a warrior. She sighted down each of Zar'roc's edges and flexed the blade between her hands until Eragon feared it might break.

"Zar'roc," Rhunön said. "I remember thee. As perfect as the day you were finished. My entire life I spent hammering these swords out of ore. Then he came and destroyed them — centuries of effort obliterated in an instant. So far as I knew, only four examples of my art still existed. His sword, Oromis's, and two others guarded by families who managed to rescue them from the Wyrdfell. Now Zar' roc has returned to me. Of all my creations, this I least expected to hold again, save for his. How came you to possess Morzan's sword?"

"It was given to me by Brom."

"Brom?" She hefted Zar'roc. "Brom... I remember Brom. He begged me to replace the sword he had lost. Truly, I wished to help him, but I had already taken my oath. My refusal angered him beyond reason. Oromis had to knock him unconscious before he would leave."

"Your handiwork has served me well, Rhunön-elda. I would be long dead were it not for Zar'roc. I killed the Shade Durza with it."

"Did you now? Then some good has come of it." Sheathing Zar' roc, Rhunön returned it to him, though not without reluctance, then looked past us to Saphira and Alethea. "Ah. Well met, Skulblaka."

"Well met, Rhunön-elda." Both dragons murmured. Without bothering to ask permission, Rhunön went up to Saphira's and Alethea's shoulder and tapped a scale with one of her blunt fingernails, twisting her head from side to side in an attempt to peer into the translucent pebble.

"Good color. Not like those brown dragons, all muddy and dark. Properly speaking, a Rider's sword should match the hue of his dragon, and this blue would have made a gorgeous blade as well as that white...."

"I've never seen the equal of your mail, not even among the dwarves. How do you have the patience to weld every link? Why don't you just use magic and save yourself the work?" Eragon asked. I rolled my eyes at his outburst. He was still a little impulsive."

"And rob myself of all pleasure in this task? Aye, every other elf and I could use magic to satisfy our desires—and some do—but then what meaning is there in life? How would you fill your time? Tell me."

"I don't know," Eragon confessed.

"By pursuing that which you love the most. When you can have anything you want by uttering a few words, the goal matters not, only the journey to it — a lesson for you. You'll face the same dilemma one day if you live long enough... Now begone! I am weary of this talk."

"Rhunön-elda," Arya spoke. "Remember, I will return for you on the eve of the Agaetí Blödhren." A grunt was her only reply. We left the forge and started to wander Ellesméra again.

"She made all the Riders' swords?" Eragon asked in awe. "Every last one?"

"That and more. She's the greatest smith who has ever lived. I thought that you should meet her for her sake and yours."

"Thank you."

"Is she always so brusque?" Saphira asked

"Always. For her, nothing matters except her craft, and she's famously impatient with anything—or anyone—that interferes with it. Her eccentricities are well tolerated, though, because of her incredible skill and accomplishments."

"Celebration," Arya answered Eragon's question about the impending celebration. "We hold the Blood-oath Celebration once every century to honor our pact with the dragons. Both of you are fortunate to be here now, for it is nighupon us...Fate has indeed arranged a most auspicious coincidence."

We walked farther in Du Weldenvarden until we came across a huge tree.

"Behold the Menoa tree," Arya whispered. "We observe the Agaetí Blödhren in her shade. Shall I tell you the story of the Menoa tree?"

"I'd like that," Eragon responded as Blagden flew into the Menoa tree.

"Wyrda!"

"This is what happened. Once there lived a woman, Linnëa, in the years of spice and wine before our war with the dragons and before we became as immortal as any beings still composed of vulnerable flesh can be. Linnëa had grown old without the comfort of a mate or children, nor did she feel the need to seek them out, preferring to occupy herself with the art of singing to plants, of which she was a master. That is, she did until a young man came to her door and beguiled her with words of love. His affections woke a part of Linnëa that she had never

suspected existed, a craving to experience the things that she had unknowingly sacrificed. The offer of a second chance was too great an opportunity for her to ignore. She deserted her work and devoted herself to the young man and, for a time, they were happy."

"When Linnëa discovered that she had been spurned, scorned, and abandoned, she went mad with grief. The young man had done the worst possible thing; he had given her a taste of the fullness of life, then torn it away with no more thought than a rooster flitting from one hen to the next. She found him with the woman and, in her fury, she stabbed him to death."

"Linnëa knew that what she had done was evil. She also knew that even if she was exonerated of the murder, she could not return to her previous existence. Life had lost all joy for her. So she went to the oldest tree in Du Weldenvarden, pressed herself against it, and sang herself into the tree, abandoning all allegiance to her own race. For three days and three nights, she sang, and when she finished, she had become one with her beloved plants. And through all the millennia since has she kept watch over the forest... Thus was the Menoa tree created. Do you think that the young man was to blame for the tragedy?"

"I think," Eragon said. "That what he did was cruel... and that Linnëa overreacted. They were both at fault."

"They weren't suited for each other," Arya said shortly.

"Perhaps, being home seems to agree with you."

"It does."

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

"Very good, Eragon-vodhr."

"Aye. Well played, Bjartskular." Eragon and Saphira had finally passed the quizzes we took when we first arrived. Alethea and Saphira then left with Glaedr.

"Your voice is rougher today, Eragon. Are you sick?"

"My back hurt again this morning."

"Ah. You have my sympathy." He motioned with one finger. "Wait here."

Eragon and I watched as Oromis strode into his hut and then reappeared with his bronze sword in hand.

"Today," he said, "We shall forgo the Rimgar and instead cross our two blades, Naegling and Zar' roc. Mal, you will switch with Eragon later. Draw thy sword and guard its edge as your first master taught you."

"Gëuloth du knífr," Eragon said, and a winking blue star popped into existence between his thumb and forefinger, jumping from one to the next as he ran it down Zar'roc's perilous length. Eragon and Oromis started to spar. I winced at just how good our Master was. Not once did Eragon land a blow on Oromis

"Move your feet faster," Oromis cried. "He who stands like a pillar dies in battle. He who bends like a reed is triumphant!"

Twenty minutes into the fight when I saw Oromis's illness start to show. Eragon made a move to try and get at least one hit in ended up with him curled on the ground. He continued to twitch in the mud for another twenty minutes. Eragon finally pushed himself to his knees. He spit out a little blood.

"Bit my tongue."

Oromis nodded as if it were to be expected. "Do you require healing?"

"No."

"Very well. Tend to your sword, then bathe and go to the stump in the glade and listen to the thoughts of the forest. Listen, and when you hear no more, come tell me what you have learned."

"Yes, Master." Eragon headed off in the direction of the stream while I pulled out my sword and guarded its edge.

"We will be incorporating a dagger, so your right arm isn't just hanging there." Oromis said, handing me a curved dagger. I gingerly wrapped my fingers around the hilt and held it in my right hand. So far, so good.

"You might not be able to wield a sword in your right hand, but you should be able to wield a dagger." I guarded the edge of the dagger before facing Oromis to finally spar. I may have an extra weapon, but I could barely hold him off. My left arm was straining from underuse, and my right arm was starting to get twitchy.

With one block with my dagger, my hand and fingers started to twitch and hurt, causing me to drop the dagger.

"Your hand lasted longer than I thought, that is good news. We will conclude your training now." When my hand stopped twitching, I picked the dagger up again and held it out to Oromis.

"Keep it. It will serve you better than if it stays with me. Let me get you its sheath." Oromis went into his hut and soon reappeared with a leather sheath that was decorated with intricate stitching. "This blade has passed many hands, all of which, have been Riders. It is time to pass it on."

I accepted the leather sheath and examined the blade. It had to be hundreds of years old. Oromis gestured to his hut, and we went in and sat down and drank tea in silence. Eragon walked into the hut.

"How went it?"

"Master, I could listen night and day for the next twenty years and still not know everything that goes on in the forest." Oromis raised an eyebrow.

"You have made progress. But still, not enough, I fear. You must work harder, Eragon. I know you can. You are intelligent and persistent, and you have the potential to be a great Rider. As difficult as it is, you have to learn to put aside your troubles and concentrate entirely on the task at hand. Find peace within yourself and let your actions flow from there."

"I'm doing my best."

"No, this isn't your best. We shall recognize your best when it appears. Perhaps it would help if you had a fellow student to compete with. Then we might see your best... I will think on the matter."

From his cupboards, Oromis produced a loaf of freshly baked bread, a wood jar of hazelnut butter and a pair of bowls that he ladled full of a vegetable stew that had been simmering in a pot hung over a bed of coals in the corner fireplace.

"Master, why do you have me meditate? Is it so that I will understand the doings of the animals and insects, or is there more to it than that?"

"Can you think of no other motive?" Oromis sighed when Eragon shook his head.

"Always it is thus with my new students, and especially with the human ones; the mind is the last muscle they train or use, and the one that they regard the least. Ask them about swordplay, and they can list every blow from a duel a month old, but ask them to solve a problem or make a coherent statement and... well, I would be lucky to get more than a blank stare in return. You are still new to the world of gramarye—as magic is properly called—but you must begin to consider its full implications."

"How so?"

"Imagine for a moment that you are Galbatorix, with all of his vast resources at your command. The Varden have destroyed your Urgal army with the help of a rival Dragon Rider, who you know was educated—at least in part—by one of your most dangerous and implacable foes, Brom. You are also aware that your enemies are massing in Surda for a possible invasion. Given that, what would be the easiest way to deal with these various threats, short of flying into battle yourself?"

"It seems to me," Oromis said slowly, "that the easiest thing would be to train a corps of magicians—they wouldn't even have to be that powerful—force them to swear loyalty to me in the ancient language, then have them infiltrate Surda to sabotage the Varden's efforts, poison wells, and assassinate Nasuada, King Orrin, and other key members of the resistance."

"And why hasn't Galbatorix done this yet?"

"Because until now, Surda was of negligible interest to him, and because the Varden have dwelled in Farthen Dûr for decades, where they were able to examine every newcomer's mind for duplicity, which they can't do in Surda since its border and population are so large."

"Those are my very conclusions," Oromis said. "Unless Galbatorix forsakes his lair in Urû'baen, the greatest danger you're likely to encounter during the Varden's campaign will come from fellow magicians. You know as well as I how difficult it is to guard against magic, especially if your opponent has sworn in the ancient language to kill you, no matter the cost. Instead of attempting first to conquer your mind, such a foe will simply cast a spell to obliterate you, even though—in an instant, before you are destroyed—you will still be free to retaliate. However, you cannot fell your murderer if you don't know who or where he is."

"So sometimes you don't have to bother taking control of your opponent's mind?"

"Sometimes, but it's a risk to avoid." Oromis paused to consume a few spoonfuls of stew. "Now, to address the heart of this issue, how do you defend yourself against anonymous enemies who can contravene any physical precautions and slay with a muttered word?"

"I don't see how, unless... Unless I was aware of the consciousnesses of all the people around me. Then I could sense if they meant me harm."

Oromis looked pleased by his answer. "Even so, Eragon-finiarel. And that's the answer to your question. Your meditations condition your mind to find and exploit flaws in your enemies' mental armor, no matter how small."

"But won't another magic-user know if I touch their mind?"

"Aye, they will know, but most people won't. And as for the magicians, they will know, they will be afraid, and they will shield their minds from you out of their fear, and you will know them because of it."

"Isn't it dangerous to leave your consciousness unguarded? If you're attacked mentally, you could easily be overwhelmed."

"It's less dangerous than being blind to the world." Eragon nodded as he tapped his spoon against his bowl."

"It feels wrong."

"Oh? Explain yourself."

"What about people's privacy? Brom taught me to never intrude on someone's mind unless it was absolutely necessary... I guess I'm uncomfortable with the idea of prying into people's secrets... secrets that they have every right to keep to themselves."

"Why didn't Brom tell me about this if it's so important? Why didn't he train me in it himself?"

"Brom told us what was appropriate to tell us under the circumstances Eragon." I spoke up.

"Dipping into the pool of minds can prove addictive to those with a malicious personality or a taste for power. It was not taught to prospective Riders—though we had them meditate as you do throughout their training—until we were convinced that they were mature enough to resist temptation.

"It is an invasion of privacy, and you will learn many things from it that you never wanted to. However, this is for your own good and the good of the Varden. I can say from experience, and from watching other Riders experience the same, that this, above all else, will help you to understand what drives people. And understanding begets empathy and compassion, even for the meanest beggar in the meanest city of Alagaësia."

"Can you tell me, what is the most important mental tool a person can possess?" Oromis asked after a period of silence. I looked at Eragon while he thought of his answer.

Determination." Oromis tore the loaf in half with his long white fingers. "I can understand why you arrived at that conclusion—determination has served you well in your adventures—but no. I meant the tool most necessary to choose the best course of action in any given situation. Determination is as common among men who are dull and foolish as it is among those who are brilliant intellects. So, no, determination cannot be what we're looking for."

I gently tore into my chunk of bread and dipped it into my bowl of vegetable stew. I could tell that Eragon wasn't pleased about the stew being meat-free. I only hope he will understand why elves don't eat meat.

"Wisdom," he finally said. "Wisdom is the most important tool for a person to possess."

"A fair guess, but, again, no. The answer is logic. Or, to put it another way, the ability to reason analytically. Applied properly, it can overcome any lack of wisdom, which one only gains through age and experience." Eragon frowned.

"Yes, but isn't having a good heart more important than logic? Pure logic can lead you to conclusions that are ethically wrong, whereas if you are moral and righteous, that will ensure that you don't act shamefully."

"You confuse the issue. All I wanted to know was the most useful tool a person can have, regardless of whether that person is good or evil. I agree that it's important to be of a virtuous nature, but I would also contend that if you had to choose between giving a man a noble disposition or teaching him to think clearly, you'd do better to teach him to think clearly."

"Too many problems in this world are caused by men with noble dispositions and clouded minds. History provides us with numerous examples of people who were convinced that they were doing the right thing and committed terrible crimes because of it. Keep in mind, Eragon, that no one thinks of himself as a villain, and few make decisions they think are wrong. A person may dislike his choice, but he will stand by it because, even in the worst circumstances, he believes that it was the best option available to him at the time."

"On its own, being a decent person is no guarantee that you will act well, which brings us back to the one protection we have against demagogues, tricksters, and the madness of crowds, and our surest guide through the uncertain shoals of life: clear and reasoned thinking. Logic will never fail you, unless you're unaware of—or deliberately ignore—the consequences of your deeds."

"If elves are so logical," Eragon said, "then you must all agree on what to do." I let out a laugh at the thought.

"Hardly, like every race, we adhere to a wide range of tenets, and, as a result, we often arrive at differing conclusions, even in identical situations. Conclusions, I might add that make logical sense from each person's point of view. And although I wish it were otherwise, not all elves have trained their minds properly."

"How do you intend to teach me this logic?" Oromis's smile broadened. "By the oldest and most effective method: debating. I will ask you a question. Then you will answer and defend your position. For example, why do you fight the Empire?"

"As I said before, to help those who suffer from Galbatorix's rule and, to a lesser extent, for personal vengeance."

"Then you fight for humanitarian reasons?"

"What do you mean?"

"That you fight to help the people who Galbatorix has harmed and to

stop him from hurting anymore."

"Exactly."

"Ah, but answer me this, my young Rider: Won't your war with Galbatorix cause more pain than it will ever prevent? The majority of people in the Empire live normal, productive lives untouched by their king's madness. How can you justify invading their land, destroying their homes, and killing their sons and daughters?"

"Don't you believe that Galbatorix should be overthrown?"

"That is not the question."

"You must believe it, though," Eragon persisted. "Look what he did to the Riders."

Dunking his bread in his stew, Oromis resumed eating, letting Eragon fume in silence. When he finished, Oromis folded his hands in his lap.

"Have I upset you?"

"Yes, you have."

"I see. Well then, continue to ponder the matter until you find an answer. I expect it to be a convincing one." We cleared the table and took the dishes outside, where we cleaned them with sand. Oromis crumbled what remained of the bread around his house for the birds to eat. Then we returned inside.


	23. Chapter Twenty-One: Iridescent

Oromis brought out pens and ink for us to continue our education of the Liduen Kvaedhí, the written form of the ancient language, which was so much more elegant than the humans' or dwarves' runes. After hours spent bent over the paper sheets, Oromis waved a hand.

"Enough. We will continue this tomorrow." Oromis pulled out several scrolls. "Two of these are in the ancient language. Three are in your native tongue. They will help you to master both alphabets, as well as give you valuable information that would be tedious for me to vocalize."

"Vocalize?" Oromis took a massive scroll from the wall and handed it to Eragon.

"This is a dictionary. I doubt you can, but try to read it all." When Oromis opened the door for us to leave.

"Master?"

"Yes, Eragon?"

"When will we start working with magic?" Oromis leaned on one arm against the doorway.

"You must trust me to guide your training, Eragon. Still, I suppose it would be foolish of me to delay any longer. Come, leave the scrolls on the table, and let us go explore the mysteries of gramarye."

We headed outside, and Oromis walked to the edge of the Crags of Tel' naeír, his back to us.

"What is magic?"

"The manipulation of energy through the use of the ancient language." Eragon automatically responded. There was a pause before Oromis responded.

"Technically, you are correct, and many spellcasters never understand more than that. However, your description fails to capture the essence of magic. Magic is the art of thinking, not strength or language—you already know that a limited vocabulary is no obstacle to using magic. As with everything else you must master, magic relies on having a disciplined intellect."

"Brom bypassed the normal training regimen and ignored the subtleties of gramarye to ensure that you had the skills you needed to remain alive. I too must distort the regimen in order to focus on the skills that you will likely require in the coming battles. However, whereas Brom taught you the crude mechanics of magic."

"I will teach you its finer applications, the secrets that were reserved for the wisest of the Riders: how you can kill with no more energy than moving your finger, the method by which you can instantaneously transport an item from one point to another, a spell that will allow you to identify poisons in your food and drink, a variation on scrying that allows you to hear as well as to see, how you can draw energy from your surroundings and thus preserve your strength, and how you can maximize your strength in every possible way."

"These techniques are so potent and dangerous, they were never shared with novice Riders such as yourself, but circumstances demand that I divulge them and trust that you won't abuse them."

"Adurna!" Oromis commanded. Eragon and I watched as a sphere of water coalesced from the brook by the hut and floated through the air until it hovered between Oromis's outstretched fingers. "Catch."

He tossed the sphere back over his shoulder toward Eragon. Eragon tried to grab the ball, but as soon as it touched his skin, the water lost cohesion and splashed across his chest.

"Catch it with magic," Oromis chided. "Adurna!"

"Reisa du adurna," It slowed to a halt just shy from the skin of Eragon's palm.

"An awkward word choice," said Oromis, "but workable, nevertheless."

Eragon grinned before sending the ball back. However, the sphere did not land where Eragon had intended, but instead shot past the elf, whipped around, and flew back at Eragon with increased velocity. I took a step away from Eragon as it collided with his head.

The blow knocked him sprawling on the turf, where he lay stunned, blinking as pulsing lights swam across the sky. I tried to cover my giggles, but Eragon still heard and shot me a look.

"Yes," Oromis mused. "A better word might be letta or kodthr." He finally turned to look at Eragon and raised an eyebrow with apparent surprise. "Whatever are you doing? Get up. We can't lay about all day."

"Yes, Master," Eragon groaned as he got to his feet. When Eragon got back on his feet, Oromis had us manipulate the water in various ways—shaping it into complex knots, changing the color of light that it absorbed or reflected, and freezing it in certain prescribed sequences none of which proved difficult for us. The exercises continued for so long that Eragon's initial interest faded and was replaced by impatience and puzzlement, not really surprising though. 

"Master, I know all of this. Can we not move on?" The muscles in Oromis's neck hardened, and his shoulders were like chiseled granite for all they moved.

"Will you never learn respect, Eragon-vodhr? So be it!" Then he uttered four words from the ancient language in a voice so deep that their meaning escaped Eragon. Eragon yelped as he fell to the ground, unable to move his legs.

"Free yourself," Oromis commanded.

"Losna kalfya iet," Eragon said before he started to stumble around.

"Foolish, very foolish. If I had committed more to maintaining my spell, that would have killed you. Never use absolutes."

"Absolutes?"

"Never word your spells so that only two outcomes are possible: success or death. If an enemy had trapped your legs and if he were stronger than you, then you would have expended all of your energy trying to break his spell. You would have died with no chance to abort the attempt once you realized that it was futile."

"How do I avoid that?" asked Eragon.

"It's safer to make the spell a process that you can terminate at your discretion. Instead of saying release my calves, which is an absolute, you could say reduce the magic imprisoning my calves. A bit wordy, but you could then decide how much you wanted your opponent's spell decreased and if it were safe to remove it entirely. We will try again, Khensamel, continue with your exercises."

I continued to shape the water as Eragon tried to free himself, the minutes started to tick by, and the water started to waver. I was getting tired from continually using magic.

"Ebrithil, I beg your pardon." I turned my head to see Eragon kneeling in front of Oromis. Our master did not indicate that he had heard. From the north came the faint offbeat thumps of Saphira, Alethea, and Glaedr's wing strokes as they returned for the day.

In a low, distant voice, Oromis said, "We will begin anew tomorrow, with this and other subjects." From his profile, Eragon could tell that Oromis had regained his customary expression of impassive reserve. "Is that agreeable to you?"

"Yes, Master," Eragon replied.

"I think it best if, from now on, you endeavor to speak only in the ancient language. We have little time at our disposal, and this is the fastest way for you to learn."

"Even when I talk to Saphira?"

"Even then."

"Then I will work ceaselessly until I not only think but dream, in your language."

"If you achieve that," Oromis said, replying in kind, "our venture may yet succeed." He paused. "Instead of flying directly here in the morning, you will accompany the elf I send to guide you. He will take you two to were those of Ellesméra practice swordplay. Stay for an hour, then continue as normal."

"Won't you teach me yourself?"

"I have naught to teach. You are as good a swordsman as ever I have met, you as well Khensamel. I know no more of fighting than you, and that which I possess and you do not, I cannot give you. All that remains for you is to preserve your current level of skill and work with your new weapon." Eragon glanced my way before turning back to Oromis.

"Why can't I do that with you... Master?"

"Because I do not appreciate beginning the day with alarum and conflict." He looked at Eragon, then relented and added, "And because it will be good for you to become acquainted with others who live here. I am not representative of my race. But enough of that. Look, they approach."

The three dragons glided across the flat disk of the sun. First came Glaedr with a roar of wind, blotting out the sky with his massive bulk before he settled on the grass and folded his golden wings, then Saphira, as quick and agile as a sparrow beside an eagle. Alethea immediately went to her usual place on my shoulder.

As they had that morning, Oromis and Glaedr asked a number of questions to ensure that we had paid attention to each other's lessons.

"Better," Glaedr rumbled. "Much better." Glaedr turned his head towards Eragon and me.

"We will have to train together soon."

"Of course, Skulblaka," Eragon responded while I gave the old dragon a bow. The ancient dragon snorted and crawled alongside Oromis, half hopping with his front leg to compensate for his missing limb. Darting forward, Saphira nipped at the end of Glaedr's tail, tossing it into the air with a flip of her head, like she would to break the neck of a deer. My hands immediately went to my ears just in time to muffle Glaedr's roar.

"Contain yourself, Saphira!" Oromis said as Saphira pranced backward and settled on her haunches, though nothing in her demeanor expressed contrition. Eragon muttered an excuse, and Oromis waved a hand.

"Begone, both of you." Eragon scrambled on Saphira as I did the same with Alethea.

"As is our custom, and as was agreed upon at the end of The Dragon War by Queen Tarmunora, the first Eragon, and the white dragon who represented his race—he whose name cannot be uttered in this or any language—when they bound the fates of elves and dragons together, we have met to honor our blood-oath with song and dance and the fruits of our labor. Last this celebration occurred, many long years ago, our situation was desperate indeed. It has improved somewhat since, the result of our efforts, the dwarves', and the Varden's, though Alagaësia still lies under the black shadow of the Wyrdfell and we must still live with our shame of how we have failed the dragons."

Eragon quickly glanced at me as Islanzadí made her speech, I gave him a reassuring smile. We had come a long way since starting training with Oromis and Glaedr.

"Of the Riders of eld, only Oromis and Glaedr remain. Brom and many others entered the void this past century. However, new hope has been granted to us in the form of Eragon and Saphira, Khensamel and Alethea, and it is only right and proper that they should be here now, as we reaffirm the oath between our races three."

At the Islanzadí's signal, the elves cleared a vast expanse at the base of the Menoa tree. Around the perimeter, they staked a ring of lanterns mounted upon carved poles, while musicians with flutes, harps, and drums assembled along the ridge of one long root. Guided by Arya to the edge of the circle, Eragon and I found ourselves seated between her and Oromis, while Saphira, Alethea, and Glaedr crouched on either side of them like gem-studded bluffs.

"Watch you carefully, for this is of great importance to your heritage as Riders," Oromis said to Eragon and I. When all the elves were settled, two elf-maids walked to the center of the space in the host and stood with their backs to each other. "The Caretakers, Iduna and Nëya,"

.

From Islanzadí's shoulder, Blagden shrieked, "Wyrda!"

Moving in unison, the two elves raised their hands to the brooches at their throats, unclasped them, and allowed their white robes to fall away. Though they wore no garments, the women were clad in an iridescent tattoo of a dragon. The tattoo began with the dragon's tail wrapped around the left ankle of Iduna, continued up her leg and thigh, over her torso, and then across Nëya's back, ending with the dragon's head on Nëya's chest. Every scale on the dragon was inked a different color; the vibrant hues gave the tattoo the appearance of a rainbow.

The elf-maids twined their hands and arms together so that the dragon appeared to be a continuous whole, rippling from one body to the next without interruption. Then they each lifted a barefoot and brought it down on the packed ground with a soft thump. They continued to thump their feet as the musicians struck their drums in rhythm. A thump later, the harpists plucked the strings of their gilt instruments, and a moment after that, those elves with flutes joined the throbbing melody.

Slowly at first, but with gathering speed, Iduna and Nëya began to dance, marking time with the stamp of their feet on the dirt and undulating so that it was not they who seemed to move but the dragon upon them. Round and round they went, and the dragon flew endless circles across their skin. Then the twins added their voices to the music, building upon the pounding beat with their fierce cries. I heard the dragon's behind us hum in concordance, a deep pulse so strong that it vibrated my body.

A burst of flame erupted from the dragon's maw, and he lunged forward and pulled himself free of the elves' skin, climbing into the air, where he hovered, flapping his wings. The tip of his tail remained connected to the twins below. The giant beast strained toward the black moon and loosed an untamed roar of ages past, then turned and surveyed the assembled elves.

The dragon flew down in front of us. It came to a stop before Eragon. He raised his hand while I blinked at the dragon.

"Our gift so you may do what you must." The dragon bent his neck and, with his snout, touched the heart of Eragon's gedwëy ignasia. Eragon hit the ground next to me, unconscious. I turned my head back to the dragon as it turned to me. "Our gift, so you may right his wrong."

The dragon got closer and touched my right shoulder; exactly where the scar was. Shocks went up my right arm like the time I first touched Alethea. I hit the ground, trying not to blackout from the pain. An icy coolness started to spread around my body, emanating from my scar. The last thing I saw was the dragon receding to the twins.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Two: Iridescent

"My rider.............. my rider, wake up." Something nudged my chin before I could hear a very loud and angry squeak. "Wake!"

I shot upright, confused as to where I was since the last thing I remember was the dragon touching my arm. What exactly did he do? I held out my right arm and let out a shriek. A tattoo much like the twins was now wrapped around my entire right arm, hand, and shoulder. I ran my fingers over where my scar was supposed to be but didn't feel anything. I frowned and got up from my bed, walking to the nearest mirror.

I yanked my sleeve down and gaped at my now smooth, but tattooed skin. How did the dragon do this? I looked up at the mirror and took a step back. I looked even more elvish now. I heard running feet, and Karí and Nearí burst into the room with alarmed expressions.

"My lady, are you all right..." Karí trailed off when both hers and Nearí's eyes fixated on my tattooed arm.

"I think so," I said, playing around with my fingers without the usual tingling sensation. "My arm, I think the dragon fixed it."

Nearí and Karí walked over to me a stared at my arm in wonder.

"That's not all that changed my lady," Nearí said, examining my face. "We will have a hard time distinguishing you from your mother."

I let out a laugh before moving my right arm again. I hadn't had this much mobility since the wound was healed.

"I think I need help picking something to wear." Karí went into my closet and came back out with a black tunic and grey pants.

"I believe you have training today, my lady. I would suggest wearing these." I changed into the clothes all by myself, much to my joy.

"Can one of you do my hair? I don't think I can ever replicate your skills." Nearí smiled brightly while Karí retrieved my sword and dagger. Once my hair was done, and my weapons were secure, Alethea sailed over to my shoulder, and we set out for the training area. I walked into the field and immediately spotted Eragon and Orik.

"I hope you are feeling better, Eragon," I said as I walked up to the two. They turned around, and Eragon's eyes widened by a fraction of an inch.

"They touched you too?" I nodded before seeing Vanir approaching from across the field.

"Are you ready, Shadeslayer?"

"I'm ready." Eragon and Vanir squared off against each other in an open area of the field. Eragon grasped and drew Zar'roc as fast as he could, Eragon's arm snapped straight, tearing the sword from his hand and sending it whirling twenty yards to his right, where it buried itself in the trunk of a pine tree. I looked at Eragon with a small smile.

"Can you not even hold on to your blade, Rider?" Vanir demanded.

"I apologize, Vanir-vodhr," Eragon gasped. "I misjudged my strength."

"See that it does not happen again." Going to the tree, Vanir gripped Zar'roc's hilt and tried to pull the sword free. The weapon remained motionless. Vanir's eyebrows met as he frowned at the unyielding crimson blade as if he suspected some form of trickery. Bracing himself, the elf heaved backward and, with the crack of wood, yanked Zar' roc out of the pine.

Eragon accepted the sword from Vanir and hefted Zar' roc. He had a puzzled look on his face.

"Take your place!" This time it was Vanir who initiated the fight. In a single bound, he crossed the distance between them and thrust his blade toward Eragon's right shoulder. For once it was easy for Eragon to deflect Vanir's sword, blue sparks flying from the metal as their edges grated against one another. Vanir landed with an astonished expression. He struck again, and Eragon evaded the sword by leaning back, like a tree swaying in the wind. In quick succession, Vanir rained a score of heavy blows upon Eragon, each of which Eragon dodged or blocked, using Zar'roc's sheath as often as the sword to foil Vanir's onslaught.

The spectral dragon from the Agaetí Blödhren had done more than alter his appearance; it had also granted him the elves' physical abilities. In strength and speed, Eragon now matched even the most athletic elf. A smile grew on my face as the fight continued.

The force of their blows created gusts of wind that whipped their hair into tangled disarray. Overhead, the trees shook and dropped their needles. The duel lasted long into the morning, for even with Eragon's newfound skill, Vanir was still a formidable opponent.

Playing Zar' roc in a circle, Eragon darted past Vanir's guard and struck him upon the upper arm, breaking the bone. Vanir dropped his blade, his face turning white with shock.

"How swift is your sword," Vanir said.

"By the gods!" exclaimed Orik. "That was the best swordsmanship I've ever seen, and I was there when you fought Arya in Farthen Dûr."

The elf twisted his uninjured hand in the gesture of loyalty, placed it upon his sternum, and bowed.

"I beg your pardon for my earlier behavior, Eragon-elda. I thought that you had consigned my race to the void, and out of my fear, I acted most shamefully. However, it seems that your race no longer endangers our cause." In a grudging voice, he added: "You are now worthy of the title Rider."

Eragon bowed in return. "You honor me. I'm sorry that I injured you so badly. Will you allow me to heal your arm?"

"No, I shall let nature tend to it at her own pace, as a memento that I once crossed blades with Eragon Shadeslayer. You needn't fear that it will disrupt our sparring tomorrow; I am equally good with my left hand."

They both bowed again, and then Vanir departed as Astir, my sparring partner showed up. Orik slapped a hand on his thigh and said, "Now we have a chance at victory, a real chance! I can feel it in my bones. Bones like stone, they say. Ah, this'll please Hrothgar and Nasuada to no end."

"Khensamel Dröttningu, are you ready to begin?" I pulled out my sword and dagger while stepping forward.

"Indeed I am Astir-vodhr," We took our positions, and I felt the weight of the sword, it felt light, that was probably why Eragon had so many problems at the start. I twirled the sword in my hand as I started to circle Astir.

I lunged forward, whipping my sword at an upward angle towards Astir's right hip. Astir parried my sword, making sparks fly around us, I twirled back and deflected an incoming swipe with my dagger. Sending Astir's blade away from my body, I gave myself a chance to swipe his feet out from underneath him.

Astir managed to right himself, and we continued to fight. I ducked underneath another swing and retaliated by striking at Astir's wrist much like Eragon had with Vanir. Astir's sword flew from his grip and lodged itself in the ground twenty feet away from us. I held my sword at his throat, while the two of us just stared at each other wide-eyed.

"I haven't hurt you have I, Astir-vodhr?" I asked after a few seconds. Astir shook his head.

"No, you have greatly surprised me." He responded, and I put my sword and dagger back into their respective sheaths. "That was incredible, has your arm bothered you at all?"

I held out my covered hand and arm.

"Not once, in fact, I believe I was able to use it even more than before."

"I do believe you no longer need my help Khensamel-elda. You are a formidable opponent." Astir bowed before retrieving his sword and striding out of the training field. I turned around to face Eragon and Orik who were unusually quiet. They both were staring open-mouthed at me. 

"What?"

"I have never in all of my years seen someone fight like that," Orik whispered.

"Mal, did something happen to your shoulder?" Eragon asked with a frown.

"Yes, the spirit dragon healed my wound completely. I think it's time for us to head to Master Oromis's hut." Eragon nodded, and we took off in the direction of the Crags of Tel'naeír.

Oromis was sitting on a stool, looking over the cliff.

"Have you entirely recovered, Eragon, from the potent magic of the Blood-oath Celebration?"

"I have, Master."

"Khensamel, are you recovered as well?"

"Yes, I am Master."

"Glaedr explained to me, as best he could, what was done to you two during the celebration. Such a thing has never before occurred in the history of the Riders.... Once again, the dragons have proved themselves capable of far more than we imagined."

"Glaedr was uncertain exactly what changes you would experience, so I would like you to describe the full extent of your transformation, including your appearance."

Eragon quickly summarized how he had been altered, detailing the increased sensitivity of his sight, smell, hearing, and touch, and ending with an account of his clash with Vanir.

"And how," Oromis asked, "do you feel about this? Do you resent that your body was manipulated without your permission?"

"No, no! Not at all. I might have resented it before the battle of Farthen Dûr, but now I'm just grateful that my back doesn't hurt anymore. I would have willingly submitted myself too far greater changes to escape Durza's curse. No, my only response is gratitude."

Oromis nodded. "I am glad that you are wise enough to take that position, for your gift is worth more than all the gold in the world. With it, I believe that our feet are at last set upon the correct path. Khensamel, what befell you?"

Instead of using words, I slowly stared undoing the outer shirt that covered my skin. I pulled the shirt completely off, revealing my tattooed shoulder, arm, and hand. The black ink was a stark contrast to my pale skin.

I twisted my arm around before commanding a stone to rise, much like how Brom had made Eragon, and I start with magic. The mark on my hand lit up as it usually does but so did the dragon tattoo on my arm. The stone landed in my hand before I glanced up at Oromis.

"This morning at training, I was able to use my right arm fully. As if nothing had ever happened to it. I believe I received some of the same alterations Eragon received." Oromis took a sip from his teacup.

"Let us proceed. Saphira, Alethea, Glaedr expects you at the Stone of Broken Eggs. Eragon, Khensamel, you will begin today with the third level of Rimgar, if you can. I would know everything you are capable of."

Eragon and I started toward the square of tamped earth where we usually performed the Dance of Snake and Crane. As I got to my spot, Eragon turned around.

"Master, won't you join us?" A sad smile graced Oromis's face.

"Not today, Eragon. The spells required by the Blood-oath Celebration exacted a heavy toll from me. That and my... condition. It took the last of my strength to come sit outside."

"I am sorry, Master."

"Do not be. It is no fault of yours that I am crippled." Eragon struggled to complete the third level of the Rimgar, while I found no difficulty in completing it.

Oromis was teaching us how to sing to plants, it came naturally to me, and surprisingly, Eragon held a deep interest in singing to plants. Lately, Eragon has been asking so many questions about what the elves believe that I got a headache when it was mentioned.

One of my many sleepless nights I encountered Eragon reading some scrolls.

"Is there something you need Eragon?" Eragon looked up from the scroll he was reading.

"It's nothing Mal, don't worry about it. Why are you walking Ellesméra when you should be sleeping?"

"I could ask the same thing of you Eragon. But to answer your question," I paused, deciding whether or not I should lie about my reasons for being up. This was my challenge; I will deal with it myself. "I simply find myself restless this night."

Eragon grunted and went to put the scroll back. Just as Eragon put away the scroll, Blagden flew through the open portal in the eastern wall and, with a flutter of wings, landed on the corner of the carved writing desk. The white raven fixed his beady eyes on Eragon.

"Wyrda!"

Eragon inclined his head. "And may the stars watch over you, Master Blagden." The raven hopped closer to us, cocking his head to the side.

By beak and bone,

Mine blackened stone

Sees rooks and crooks

And bloody brooks!

"What does that mean?" Eragon asked after Blagden was done talking. Blagden shrugged and repeated the verse. When Eragon further pressed him for an explanation, the bird ruffled his feathers, appearing displeased.

"Son and father alike, both as blind as bats." I frowned at the ravens words while Eragon became alert.

"Wait, do you know my father? Who is he?" Blagden cackled again. This time he seemed to be laughing.

While two may share two,

And one of two is certainly one,

One might be two.

"A name, Blagden. Give me a name!"


	25. Chapter Twenty-Three: Iridescent

“Wyrda!” Blagden darted forward, plucked a bright glass stopper from an inkwell, and sped away with his trophy clutched in his beak.

"That bird is starting to irk me," I muttered before Eragon threw his hands into the air.

“That’s it. I’ll find Blagden later and wring the truth out of him. But right now... I would have to be a half-wit to ignore these portents. Mal, come with me." Eragon took off down the stairs while I sighed and followed in pursuit.

Eragon brought me to his room and retrieved a mirror before pulling me down next to him, sitting between Saphira’s two front paws so that she could look over our heads and see what we saw. Alethea was curled up in my lap, swishing her tail back and forth.

"Arya won’t appreciate it if we intrude on her privacy," Saphira warned.

"I have to know if she’s safe."

"How will you find her? You said that after her imprisonment, she erected wards that—like your necklace—prevent anyone from scrying her."

"If I can scry the people she’s with. I might be able to figure out how Arya is." Eragon said before concentrating on the mirror. “Dream stare.”

The mirror shimmered and turned white, except for nine people clustered around an invisible table. Of them, Eragon was familiar with Nasuada and the Council of Elders. But he could not identify a strange girl hooded in black who lurked behind Nasuada.

“... and confusion will destroy us. Our warriors can afford but one commander during this conflict. Decide who it is to be, Orrin, and quickly too.” Eragon and I heard a disembodied sigh.

“As you wish; the position is yours.”

“But, sir, she is untied!”

“Enough, Irwin,” ordered the king. “She has more experience in war than anyone in Surda. And the Varden is the only force to have defeated one of Galbatorix’s armies. If Nasuada were a Surdan general—which would be peculiar indeed, I admit—you would not hesitate to nominate her for the post. I shall be happy to deal with questions of authority if they arise afterward, for they will mean I’m still on my feet and not lying in a grave. As it is, we are so outnumbered I fear we are doomed unless Hrothgar can reach us before the end of the week. Now, where is that blasted scroll on the supply train?.."

We continued to listen to their conversation before a realization hit me like a brick.

"Eragon, we haven't thought about Roran in a long time..." Eragon nodded at me with a guilty expression before scrying Roran.

The mirror revealed two figures standing against a pure white background. It took Eragon and me a long moment to recognize the man on the right as Roran. To the left was Jeod. The men surged up and down, accompanied by the thunderous crash of waves, which masked anything they said. After a while, Roran turned and walked along what Eragon assumed was the deck of a ship, bringing dozens of other villagers into view.

"Why are the villagers of Carvahall on a boat?" Eragon scryed every place we have visited; everything was destroyed. The mirror dropped from Eragon’s hand and shattered across the floor. I leaned back against Saphira with Eragon as the reality set in.

"It's our fault," I whispered. "It is all our fault."

"Take comfort, little ones. At least your friends are still alive."

"We have remained sequestered from the world for far too long. It’s high time we leave Ellesméra and confront our fate, whatever it may be. For now, Roran must fend for himself, but the Varden...the Varden we can help." I said as I got to my feet.

"Is it time to fight?" Alethea asked.

"It is time," Eragon said in a hard voice. Alethea and I quickly ran back to our room, and I started to pack the essentials I would need. I quickly changed into a scooped neckline shirt covered both of my shoulders and arms before tying one of my sleeveless leather tops over the shirt to hold everything in place. I grabbed my right glove, which was longer than the one on my left hand and pulled it on before wrapping leather wrist guards around both of my wrists.

My entire right shoulder, arm, and hand were now hidden from sight, only a few would know what was underneath the cloth. I slipped my regular glove on my left hand and pulled on a pair of comfy leather pants.

"You're forgetting the things that cover your feet," Alethea said from her perch atop my traveling bag. I shot her a look before pulling on and lacing leather tall boots. I am wearing so much leather. "For a reason."

I huffed at Alethea's response before I pulled my sword sheath onto my back before doing the same with my dagger, only with my right leg. I hadn't gone back to using my right hand as a sword hand. Alethea jumped onto my shoulder after I pulled on my traveling bag.

"I have a feeling we won’t be back here for a while," I said before running down the stairs to meet up with Eragon. We met up and ran to Tialdarí Hall, where we found Orik sitting in his usual corner, playing a game of Runes.

“Eragon! Mal! What brings you here at this time of the morn? I thought you’d be off banging swords with Vanir and Astir.”

“We're leaving,” Eragon said. Orik stopped with his mouth open, then narrowed his eyes, going serious.

“You’ve had news?”

“I’ll tell you about it later. Do you want to come?”

“To Surda?”

“Aye.” A wide smile broke across Orik’s hairy face.

“You’d have to clap me in irons before I’d stay behind. I’ve done nothing in Ellesméra but grow fat and lazy. A bit of excitement will do me good. When do we leave?”

“As soon as possible. Gather your things and meet us at the sparring grounds. Can you scrounge up a week’s worth of provisions for the three of us?” I asked, Orik looked at me with a taken aback expression

“A week’s? But that won’t—”

“You’re flying on Saphira.” The skin above Orik’s beard turned pale.

“We dwarves don’t do well with heights, my lady. We don’t do well at all. It’d be better if we could ride horses as we did coming here.” Eragon shook his head.

“That would take too long. Besides, it’s easy to ride Saphira. She’ll catch you if you fall.” Orik grunted, appearing both queasy and unconvinced. Leaving the hall, Eragon and I sped through the sylvan city until we rejoined Saphira. The four of us quickly flew to Oromis's hut.

Oromis was sitting upon Glaedr’s right forearm when we landed in the clearing. Both Eragon and I descended our dragons and walked over to our two Masters.

“Master Glaedr. Master Oromis.” Eragon started.

"You have taken it upon yourself to return to the Varden, have you not?" Glaedr rumbled.

"We have," Saphira replied before Eragon stepped forward with a tense body.

"Why did you hide the truth from us? Are you so determined to keep us here that you must resort to such underhand trickery? The Varden are about to be attacked, and you didn’t even mention it!” I glared at Eragon's head for his outburst, he never learns.

“Do you wish to hear why?” Oromis cooly responded.

"Very much, Master," Saphira replied before Eragon had the chance to talk.

“We withheld the tidings for two reasons. Chief among them was that we did not know until nine days past that the Varden were threatened, and the true size, location, and movements of the Empire’s troops remained concealed from us until three days after that when Lord Däthedr pierced the spells Galbatorix used to deceive our scrying.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you said nothing of this,” Eragon said with a scowl. “Not only that but once you discovered that the Varden was in danger, why didn’t Islanzadí rouse the elves to fight? Are we not allies?”

“She has roused the elves, Eragon. The forest echoes with the ring of hammers, the tramp of armored boots, and the grief of those who are about to be parted. For the first time in a century, our race is set to emerge from Du Weldenvarden and challenge our greatest foe. The time has come for elves to once more walk openly in Alagaësia.”

“You have been distracted of late, Eragon, and I understand why. Now you must look beyond yourself. The world demands your attention."

“I am sorry, Master," Eragon muttered. “I’m as blind as a bat.”

“Hardly, Eragon. You have done well, considering the enormous responsibilities we have asked you to shoulder.” Orom said, looked at him gravely. “We expect to receive a missive from Nasuada in the next few days, requesting assistance from Islanzadí and that you rejoin the Varden. I intended to inform you of the Varden’s predicament than when you would still have enough time to reach Surda before swords are drawn. If I told you earlier, you would have been honor-bound to abandon your training and rush to the defense of your liegelord. That is why Islanzadí and I held our tongues.”

“My training won’t matter if the Varden are destroyed.”

“No. But you may be the only person who can prevent them from being destroyed, for a chance exists—slim but terrible—that Galbatorix will be present at this battle. It is far too late for our warriors to assist the Varden, which means that if Galbatorix is indeed there, you shall confront him alone, without the protection of our spellweavers. Under those circumstances, it seemed vital that your training continues for as long as possible.”

Eragon went quiet as he realized the logic behind Oromis withholding the news.

“You were right. My oath of fealty compels me to ensure the safety of Nasuada and the Varden. However, I’m not ready to confront Galbatorix. Not yet, at least.”

“My suggestion,” Oromis said, “is that if Galbatorix reveals himself, do everything you can to distract him from the Varden until the battle is decided for good or for ill and avoid directly fighting him. Before you go, I ask but one thing: that you, Khensamel and your dragons, vow that—once events permit—you will return here to complete your training, for you still have much to learn.”

"We shall return," Saphira and Alethea said in the Ancient language.

“We shall return,” Eragon and I repeated. Appearing satisfied, Oromis reached behind himself and produced an embroidered red pouch that he tugged open. “In anticipation of your departure, I gathered together three gifts for you, Eragon.”

From the pouch, he withdrew a silver bottle.

“First, some faelnirv I augmented with my enchantments. This potion can sustain you when all else fails, and you may find its properties useful in other circumstances as well. Drink it sparingly, for I only had time to prepare a few mouthfuls.”

He handed the bottle to Eragon, then removed a long black-and-blue sword belt from the pouch. Eragon put it on, and Oromis explained how the diamonds worked.

“Master... Is it safe to give this to me?” Eragon said, shaking his head.

“Guard it well so that none are tempted to steal it. This is the belt of Beloth the Wise who you read of in your history of the Year of Darkness—and is one of the great treasures of the Riders. These are the most perfect gems the Riders could find. Some we traded for with the dwarves. Others we won in battle or mined ourselves. The stones have no magic of their own, but you may use them as repositories for your power and draw upon that reserve when in need. This, in addition to the ruby set in Zar’roc’s pommel, will allow you to amass a store of energy so that you do not become unduly exhausted casting spells in battle, or even when confronting enemy magicians.”

Oromis turned to me before pulling out a glittering sapphire pendant. He hooked it around my neck before sitting back down.

"This pendant has been spelled by many of us here in Ellesméra. It will make anyone looking at you think that you are just an ordinary elf." I looked down at the pendant and ran a finger over it. It was almost like he knew what I had been planning.

"Thank you, Master." Oromis turned to Eragon.

“May good fortune rule over you. May the stars watch over you. And may peace live in your heart, now go and fly." Eragon nodded and headed back to Saphira while I stayed behind.

"How did you know?" A ghost smile appeared on Oromis's lips while Glaedr let out a huff.

"You are much like your mother, young rider." Glaedr rumbled with a twinkle in his eye. I let out a breath of air and looked down for a moment before we exchanged farewells. We headed for the enclosed gardens and quickly dropped to the ground.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Four: Iridescent

A male elf came out, touched his lips with his first two fingers, and asked if he could help us. When Eragon replied that we sought an audience with Islanzadí, the elf nodded.

"Please wait here, Silver Hand." Not five minutes later, Islanzadí emerged from the wooded depths of Tialdarí Hall.

"Oromis informed me of your intention to leave us. I am displeased by this, but one cannot resist the will of fate."

"No, Your Majesty... Your Majesty, we came to pay our respects before departing. You have been most considerate of us, and we thank you and your House for clothing, lodging, and feeding us. We are in your debt." Eragon responded.

"Never in our debt, Rider. We but repaid a little of what we owe you and the dragons for our miserable failure in the Fall. I am gratified, though, that you appreciate our hospitality. When you arrive in Surda, convey my royal salutations to Lady Nasuada and King Orrin and inform them that our warriors will soon attack the northern half of the Empire. If fortune smiles upon us, we shall catch Galbatorix off guard and, given time, divide his forces."

"As you wish."

"Also, know that I have dispatched twelve of our finest spellweavers to Surda. If you are still alive when they arrive, they will place themselves under your command and do their best to shield you from danger both night and day."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Islanzadí extended a hand, and one of the elf lords handed her a shallow, unadorned wooden box. "Oromis had his gifts for you, and I have mine. Let them remind you of your time spent with us under the dusky pines."

She opened the box, revealing a long, dark bow with reflexed limbs and curled tips nestled on a bed of velvet. Silver fittings chased with dogwood leaves decorated the ears and grip of the bow. Beside it lay a quiver of new arrows fletched with white swan feathers.

"Now that you share our strength, it seems only proper that you should have one of our bows. I sang it myself from a yew tree. The string will never break. And so long as you use these arrows, you will be hard-pressed to miss your target, even if the wind should gust during your shot."

"What can I say, my Lady? You honor me that you saw fit to give me the labor of your own hands." Islanzadí nodded as if agreeing with him, then turned to me.

"Your mother isn't happy."

"That is to be expected," I replied softly. "However, I have something important to do in Surda."

Islanzadí gestured to another elf who had a box similar to Eragon's and the same content.

"Your mother sang this bow for you for." I took the quiver and strapped it on before sliding the bow into place. "Would you please unsheathe your sword?"

I was taken aback at her request but complied. This sword was unique. It was the one Beom initially gave me. Islanzadí placed her hand over the blade and muttered some words in the ancient language. The sword glowed for a moment at its edges, and the hilt looked brand new.

"My gift to you, that sword will always be sharp and will never dull in color," Islanzadí stated, Eragon looked at me in confusion, he didn't make the connections. "I know how much this sword means to you, niece."

I bowed my head in thanks before returning my sword to its sheath. Islanzadí then turned to the two dragons behind us.

"Saphira, Alethea, I brought you no gifts because I could think of nothing you might need or want, but if there is aught of ours you desire, name it, and it shall be yours." Saphira and Alethea exchanged a look before responding at the same time.

"Dragons, do not require possessions to be happy. What use have we for riches when our hides are more glorious than any treasure hoard in existence? No, we are content with the kindness that you have shown Eragon and Mal."

Islanzadí, turning around to leave, stopped, and turned back to us.

"And Eragon?"

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"When you meet with Arya, please express my affection to her and tell her that she is sorely missed in Ellesméra," Islanzadí said before turning around and heading back into the hall. Eragon and I climbed back on our dragons, and we took off for the training field.

Orik sat on his bulging pack, tossing his war ax from one hand to the other, scowling ferociously.

"About time you got here," He grumbled. He stood and slipped the ax back under his belt. Eragon and I apologized for the delay, then tied Orik's pack onto the back of Eragon's saddle.

"And how, by Morgothal's black beard, am I supposed to get up there? A cliff has more handholds than you, Saphira."

"Here," Saphira lay flat on her belly and pushed her right hind leg out as far as she could, forming a knobby ramp. Orik crawled up her leg on hands and knees. A small jet of flame burst from Saphira's nostrils as she snorted.

"Hurry up—that tickles!" Orik paused on the ledge of her haunches, then placed one foot on either side of Saphira's spine and carefully walked his way up her back toward the saddle. He tapped one of the ivory spikes between his legs.

"There be as good a way to lose your manhood as ever I've seen." I rolled my eyes and vaulted up Alethea's side, settling into the crook of her neck. As Saphira rose to her full height, Orik swayed, then clutched the spike in front of him.

"Garr! Eragon, don't let me open my eyes until we're in the air, else I fear I'll be sick. This is unnatural; it is. Dwarves aren't meant to ride dragons. It's never been done before."

"Never?"

"Orik, would you prefer to ride with me?" I said, gesturing to Alethea's saddleless body. His face went whiter than I thought it could. As Alethea, Saphira, and I were laughing, we took to the air and started towards Surda. An Elf woman in Ellesméra raised her clear voice in song.

Away, away, you shall fly away,

O'er the peaks and vales

To the lands beyond.

Away, away, you shall fly away,

And never return to me...

Underneath Alethea, the pathless forest stretched wide to each white horizon, fading as it did from the deepest green to a hazy, washed-out purple. Martins, rooks, and other woodland birds flitted above the gnarled pines, uttering shrieks of alarm when they beheld Saphira and Alethea.

Alethea and I decided to get some extra maneuver practice in while we could, eventually, we would have to go back to hiding and hitch a ride with Saphira. I could feel Orik's discomfort every time we did a complicated maneuver.

We eventually reached the edge of the Du Weldenvarden forest, we made camp and continued to entertain ourselves like we had the past couple of days with riddles.

Soon after we resumed our journey the following morning, the rippling grass gave way to tan scrub, which grew ever more scarce until, in turn, it was replaced by sunbaked ground bare of all but the hardiest plants. Reddish gold dunes appeared.

"I hate deserts," I grumbled quietly. We finally made it out of the desert and arrived at Aberon, a low, walled city centered around a bluff in an otherwise flat landscape. Borromeo Castle occupied the top of the bluff. Alethea had retreated into my backpack, and we now rode along with Eragon and Orik.

As Saphira descended toward the inner ward of the castle, I opened my mind up to the city. It was loud. I closed my walls as we neared the castle. I pulled my hood up. I was trying to lay low until we reached the Varden.

Dirt billowed into the air with each beat of Saphira's powerful wings as she settled in the middle of the courtyard, sinking her claws into the bare ground to steady herself. Eragon dismounted after Orik and helped me down since I was playing a normal elf.

A group of twelve men, some soldiers, hurried out of the keep toward Saphira. They were led by a tall man with the same dark skin as Nasuada, only the third person Eragon and I had met with such a complexion. Halting ten paces away, the man bowed—as did his followers—then said, "Welcome, Rider. I am Dahwar, son of Kedar. I am King Orrin's seneschal."

Eragon inclined his head. "And I, Eragon Shadeslayer, son of none and this is Sal, daughter of none." We had agreed on me using a different name while out here so Eragon picked Sal.

"And I, Orik, Thrifk's son," Orik added.

"And I, Saphira, daughter of Vervada," Saphira said.

Dahwar bowed again. "I apologize that no one of higher rank than myself is present to greet guests as noble as you, but King Orrin, Lady Nasuada, and all the Varden have long since marched to confront Galbatorix's army. They left orders that if you came here seeking them, you should join them directly, for your prowess is needed if we are to prevail."

"Can you show us on a map how to find them?" Eragon asked.

"Of course, sir. While I have that fetched, would you care to step out of the heat and partake of some refreshments?"

Eragon shook his head. "We have no time to waste. Besides, it is not I who needs to see the map but Saphira, and I doubt she would fit in your halls."

"Quite right, sir. In either case, our hospitality is yours. If there is aught you and your companion's desire, you have but to ask."

"We need a week's worth of provisions. For Sal and me, only fruit, vegetables, flour, cheese, bread—things like that. We also need our waterskins refilled." Dahwar did not question Eragon's avoidance of meat. Orik added his requests for jerky, bacon, and other such products. Snapping his fingers, Dahwar sent two servants running back into the keep to collect the supplies.

"May I assume by your presence here, Shadeslayer, that you completed your training with the elves?"

"My training shall never end so long as I'm alive," Eragon answered, much to my joy. The boy was learning, albeit, slowly.

"I see, please excuse my impertinence, sir, for I am ignorant of the ways of the Riders, but are you not human? I was told you were."

"That he is," Orik growled. "He was... changed. And you should be glad he was, or our predicament would be far worse than it is."

The food, water, and map were soon brought by two wide-eyed pages. At Eragon's word, they deposited the items beside Saphira, looking terribly frightened as they did, then retreated behind Dahwar. I had to stop myself from laughing at their fear.

Kneeling on the ground, Dahwar unrolled the map—which depicted Surda and the neighboring lands—and drew a line northwest from Aberon to Cithrí. "Last I heard, King Orrin and Lady Nasuada stopped here for provender. They did not intend to stay, however, because the Empire is advancing south along the Jiet River and they wished to be in place to confront Galbatorix's army when it arrives. The Varden could be anywhere between Cithrí and the Jiet River. This is only my humble opinion, but I would say the best place to look for them would be

the Burning Plains."

"The Burning Plains?" Dahwar smiled.

"You may know them by their old name, then, the name the elves use Du Völlar Eldrvarya."

"Ah, yes," Eragon said before turning to Saphira. "Have you seen enough?"

"I have." In short order, we packed the supplies, remounted Saphira, and from her back, thanked Dahwar for his service.

"Dahwar, two grooms in the stables have gotten into an argument and one of them, Tathal, intends to commit murder. You can stop him, though, if you send men right away."

Dahwar widened his eyes in an expression of astonishment, and even Orik twisted round to look at Eragon.

"How do you know this, Shadeslayer?"

"Because I am a Rider," Eragon said before Saphira unfurled her wings, and everyone on the ground ran back to avoid being battered by the rush of air as she flapped downward and soared into the sky.

"Can you two hear my thoughts?"

"Not if you don't want us to Orik," I replied before twisting around, so my back was against Eragon's. After several hours including a night of nonstop flying, I could smell vapors and fumes that burned my nose. We reached the Burning Plains of Alagaësia.


	27. Chapter Twenty-Five: Iridescent

Eragon and I coughed as Saphira descended through the layers of smoke, angling toward the Jiet River, which was hidden behind the haze. The Jiet River lay before us, as thick and puffy as a gorged snake, its crosshatched surface reflecting the same ghastly hue that pervaded the Burning Plains. Even when a splotch of undiluted light happened to fall upon the river, the water appeared chalky white, opaque and opalescent—almost as if it were the milk of some fearsome beast—and seemed to glow with an eerie luminescence all its own.

Two armies were arrayed along the eastern banks of the oozing waterway. To the south were the Varden and the men of Surda, entrenched behind multiple layers of defense, where they displayed a beautiful panoply of woven standards, ranks of proud tents, and the picketed horses of King Orrin's cavalry. Eragon and I opened our minds, and when sudden panic ran through the men below, Eragon stopped the arrows heading our way.

"Letta orya thorna!" The arrows froze in place. With a flick of his wrist and the word "Gánga," he redirected them, sending the darts boring toward the no-man' s-land, where they could bury themselves in the barren soil without causing harm. He missed one arrow, though, which was fired a few seconds after the first volley.

I leaned to the right and snatched the arrow from the air as Saphira flew past it. Only a hundred feet above the ground, Saphira flared her wings to slow her steep descent before alighting first on her hind legs and then her front legs as she came to a running stop among the Varden's tents.

"Werg," Orik growled, loosening the thongs that held his legs in place. "I'd rather fight a dozen Kull than experience such a fall again."

He let himself hang off one side of the saddle, then dropped to Saphira's foreleg below and, from there, to the ground. Even as Eragon dismounted, dozens of warriors with awestruck expressions gathered around Saphira. Eragon looked up at me with a smirk as he waited for me to jump down.

"This is not funny, Eragon, not funny at all." I hissed as I jumped from Saphira, he caught me and set me on my feet.

"Whatever you say Mal," Eragon responded as Fredric, the Varden's weapon master from Farthen Dûr, still garbed in his hairy ox-hide armor approached us.

"Come on, you slack-jawed louts!" Fredric roared. "Don't stand here gawking; get back to your posts, or I'll have the lot of you chalked up for extra watches!" At his command, the men began to disperse with many grumbled words.

"Welcome, Shadeslayer. You've arrived just in time... I can't tell you how ashamed I am you were attacked. The honor of every man here has been blackened by this mistake. Were the four of you hurt?"

"No." Relief spread across Fredric's face.

"Well, there's that to be grateful for. I've had the men responsible pulled from duty. They'll each be whipped and reduced in rank.... Will that punishment satisfy you, Rider?" I cringed as Fredric's words while Eragon responded.

"I want to see them,"

"If you'd follow me, then, sir." He led us through the camp to a striped command tent where twenty or so miserable-looking men were divesting themselves of their arms and armor under the watchful eye of a dozen guards. At the sight of us, the prisoners all went down on one knee and remained there, gazing at the ground.

"Hail, Shadeslayer!" The prisoners yelled.

"You should be proud that you reacted so quickly to our appearance. If Galbatorix attacks, that's exactly what you should do, though I doubt arrows would prove any more effective against him than they were against Saphira and me. I only ask that, in the future, you take a moment to identify your target before shooting. Next time I might be too distracted to stop your missiles. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Shadeslayer!" The men shouted back. Eragon turned to Fredric.

"These are good and true men, and I want no misfortune to befall them because of this event."

"I will see to it personally," Fredric said with a smile.

"Now, can you take us to Lady Nasuada?"

"Yes, sir." Fredric led us deep into the camp until we came upon a vast and heavily tent. Fredric pulled back the flap, and we entered the pavilion. Behind us, Saphira pushed her head through the opening and peered over their shoulders.

A large table occupied the center of the furnished tent. Nasuada stood at one end, leaning on her hands, studying a slew of maps and scrolls.

"Eragon?" Nasuada whispered, Eragon smiled and greeted Nasuada.

"At your service."

"Eragon!" This time Nasuada sounded delighted and relieved. "How did you get our message so quickly?"

"I didn't; I learned about Galbatorix's army from my scrying and left Ellesméra the same day. It's good to be back with the Varden."

"What has happened to you, Eragon?" Eragon explained what had happened since we left Farthen Dûr

"Your scar is gone, then?" Nasuada asked. Eragon nodded back. "What a tale. You and Saphira have experienced so much since you left Farthen Dûr."

"As have you. It's amazing what you've accomplished. It must have taken an enormous amount of work to get the Varden to Surda... Has the Council of Elders caused you much trouble?"

"A bit, but nothing extraordinary. They seem to have resigned themselves to my leadership." Nasuada seated herself in a large, high-backed chair and turned to my cloaked figure. "And who is this?"

With my left hand, I slowly pulled down my hood to look Nasuada in the eyes with a smile. Shock crossed Nasuada's face.

"My lady!?!"

"Lady Nasuada, it is nice to see you again," I replied with a tilt of my head. "We can talk later, in private." Nasuada nodded before turning to Orik.

"I am heartened to know that if we can weather this onslaught, we shall have the elves by our side. Did any of you happen to see Hrothgar's warriors during your flight from Aberon? We are counting on their reinforcements."

"No, but then, it was dark, and I was often above or between clouds. I could have easily missed a camp under those conditions. In any case, I doubt we would have crossed paths, for I flew straight from Aberon, and it seems likely the dwarves would choose a different route perhaps following established roads—rather than march through the wilderness."

"What is the situation here?"

"The Empire arrived three days ago. Since then, we've exchanged two messages. First, they asked for our surrender, which we refused, and now we wait for their reply."

"How many of them are there?" Orik growled. "It looked a mighty number from Saphira's back."

"Aye. We estimate Galbatorix mustered as many as a hundred thousand soldiers." I sighed; this was going to be very difficult.

"A hundred thousand! Where did they come from? It seems impossible that he could find more than a handful of people willing to serve him."

"They were conscripted. We can only hope that the men who were torn from their homes won't be eager to fight. If we can frighten them badly enough, they may break ranks and flee. Our numbers are greater than in Farthen Dûr, for King Orrin has joined forces with us and we have received a veritable flood of volunteers since we began to spread the word about you, Eragon, although we are still far weaker than the Empire."

"What do you think our chances of victory are?"

"That," Nasuada said, putting emphasis on the word, "depends a great deal upon you and Eragon, and the number of magicians seeded through-out their troops. If you can find and destroy those magicians, then our enemies shall be left unprotected, and you can slay them at will. Outright victory, I think, is unlikely at this point, but we might be able to hold them at bay until their supplies run low or until Islanzadí can come to our assistance. That is... if Galbatorix doesn't fly into battle himself. In that case, I fear retreat will be our only option."

"He won't," I said sternly. "Trust my word. My father will not be flying today." Nasuada nodded as a dark-haired girl walked up to Eragon.

"Welcome, Shadeslayer. Welcome, Saphira."

"Who are you?"

Eragon took the girl's right hand in his own. In the ancient language, Eragon said, "I am sorry. Can you forgive me for what I did to you?"

The girl's eyes softened, and she leaned forward and kissed Eragon's forehead.

"I forgive you, how could I not? You and Saphira created who I am, and I know you meant no harm. I forgive you, but I shall let this knowledge torture your conscience: You have condemned me to be aware of all the suffering around me. Even now your spell drives me to rush to the aid of a man, not three tents away who just cut his hand, to help the young flag carrier who broke his left index finger in the spokes of a wagon wheel, and to help countless others who have been or are about to be hurt. It costs me dearly to resist those urges, and even more if I consciously cause someone discomfort, as I do by saying this... I cannot even sleep at night for the strength of my compulsion. That is your legacy, O Rider."

"You don't have to live like this forever," Eragon replied. "The elves taught me how to undo a spell, and I believe I can free you of this curse. It won't be easy, but it can be done." For a moment, the girl seemed to lose her formidable self-control. A small gasp escaped her lips, her hand trembled against Eragon's, and her eyes glistened with a film of tears. Then just as quickly, she hid her true emotions behind a mask of cynical amusement.

"Well, we shall see. Either way, you shouldn't try until after this battle."

"I could save you a great deal of pain."

"It wouldn't do to exhaust you when our survival may depend on your talents. I do not deceive myself; you are more important than me." A sly grin crossed her face. "Besides, if you remove your spell now, I won't be able to help any of the Varden if they are threatened. You wouldn't want Nasuada to die because of that, would you?"

"No. Very well, I will wait. But I swear to you: If we win this fight, I shall right this wrong."

"I will hold you to your word, Rider." I turned my head to see Nasuada standing up from her chair.

"Elva was the one who saved me from an assassin in Aberon."

"Did she? In that case, I am in your debt... Elva... for protecting my liegelord."

"Come now," Nasuada said. "I must introduce the four of you to Orrin and his nobles. Have you met the king before, Orik?" The dwarf shook his head.

"I've never been this far west." We left the tent and headed for a white and yellow tent. Once we entered, collections of beakers, alembics, retorts, and other instruments of natural philosophy assaulted my vision.

"Eragon, I would like you to meet Orrin, son of Larkin and monarch of the realm of Surda." Eragon did his greetings with the king. "There is one more person I would like to introduce."

The earls in the room raised their eyebrows. Nasuada gestured to me while I stepped forward.

"I would like you to meet Khensamel, heir to the throne of Aleagasia." To put it simply, most of the earls were flabbergasted, and one even passed out. It was stressed that my presence be kept under wraps and Nasuada directed the conversations so it not once went to my father. We finally managed to leave the tent.

"What shall I do now? How can I serve you?" Nasuada eyed Eragon with a curious expression.

"How do you think you can best serve me, Eragon? You know your abilities far better than I do."

"I shall take control of Du Vrangr Gata, as they once asked me to, and organize them underneath me so I can lead them into battle. Working together will give us the best chance of foiling Galbatorix's magicians."

"That seems an excellent idea," Nasuada said, nodding her head.

"Is there a place," Saphira asked, shifting her feet. "Where Eragon and Mal can leave their bags? I don't want to carry them or this saddle any longer than I have to." Eragon relayed the message.

"Of course. You may leave them in my pavilion, and I will arrange to have a tent erected for you, Eragon, where you can keep them permanently. My lady, I will have a separate tent set up for you as well. I suggest, though, that you don your armor before parting with your bags. You might need it at any moment... That reminds me: we have your armor with us, Saphira. I shall have it unpacked and brought to you."

"And what of me, Lady?" Orik asked.

"We have several knurlan with us from Dûrgrimst Ingeitum who have lent their expertise to the construction of our earthen defenses. You may take command of them if you wish." Orik looked pleased by Nasuada's response.

"I think I will at that. If you'll excuse me, I'll see to it at once." Without a backward glance, he trundled off through the camp. We returned to Nasuada's pavilion.

"Report to me once you have settled matters with Du Vrangr Gata." She said to Eragon before the both of us disappeared into the tent with Elva following shortly behind.

"Can you have a sound barrier cast please?" I asked, looking around at all the places someone could listen in on our conversation.

"Of course." Nasuada nodded, and I felt a barrier form around the tent. I sat down in one of the chairs.

"Eragon wasn't the only one who was changed during the blood ritual," I said before holding up my right arm. "I did too. My shoulder wound was healed."

I took off my leather corset and pushed my sleeve up so Nasuada could see the full extent of what was changed.

"When they healed me, this tattoo appeared," I said, running a finger over one of the black curves. "It's like nothing even happened."

I put my leather corset back on and ran a hand through my hair.

"I need to speak with my father," I said shortly.

"You, you want to speak with him?" I nodded.

"I can get inside the Empire. Currently, the Empire thinks I'm just a simple half-elf. Nothing out of the ordinary. As long as I pretend that my arm is still useless, hence why it is wrapped up, my father won't suspect a thing."

"Are you sure that it will work?" I looked down at my sapphire pendant.

"I was given this pendant as a way to hide who I truly am. If I'm wearing this, he's not going to be able to connect the dots."

"Who else knows about this?"

"Just us, Saphira and Alethea. Eragon cannot find out." Nasuada nodded her head.

"I see where this is going, where is Alethea going to be?" Alethea wiggled her way out of my backpack as coasted to Nasuada's lap.

"I was hoping you wouldn't mind taking care of my dragon for a while," I said while I crossed my legs. "She can't come with me."

"I would love to have the pleasure of taking care of your dragon." I smiled.

"I should tell you if she gets cranky." Alethea fixed her eyes on me and narrowed them. "Just give her a boiling bath; she loves those."

"So how do you plan on getting back to Ûru Baen?"

"When the empire attacks, I will purposely get captured. There is no doubt that my father is searching for me."

"How will you escape?" I smirked.

"Don't worry about that part Nasuada."


	28. Chapter Twenty-Six: Iridescent

I rode my horse hard in the direction of the Empire's camp as the fighting commenced around me. I was with an ambush regiment, so it didn't look suspicious that I was out so far. We were making our way to the right of the mass of fighting, trying to get a leg up.

We halted our horses when we reached the area before the plateau we had selected to have an archers volley.

"Do you remember what I told you?" I asked the soldiers around me; they all nodded. Currently, they think I'm a spy that looks like the heir to the throne of Aleagasia. It is our mission to not only ambush but successfully let the Empire capture me. None of them knew that I really was the heir. I was about to speak again when there was a roar, and it wasn't Saphira's. I opened my mind quickly to assess the situation.

"Ancestors, please, no," I whispered to myself as a blood-red dragon descended from the clouds. Of course one of the eggs would hatch for Murtagh. The men looked at me with worried expressions. "Our dragon rider will keep the other dragon rider busy, focus on your job."

Determination flashed across their faces before the soldiers charged up to the plateau. I followed them from behind.

I cantered up to the open space and got a good view of the entire battle. Overhead I saw Saphira and Eragon locked in a fight with Murtagh and his dragon. I need to focus on my task, good thing that my crown reflects light. I charged up to a plateau above the regiment below me and let the horse I was using fidget on the rock.

Overhead the fight continued with roars of pain and aggression. The two dragons broke apart, and for a second, I felt someone's eyes on me, perfect. I whirled the horse around at the two dragons started fighting again. It wasn't Eragon's eyes I felt, which meant that my plan was working so far. I reached the point where the archers were.

"They're onto me, stay strong!" I yelled before turning the horse backward and cantering into the maze of plateaux. As I wound my way through the maze of rock corridor's, I halted when I heard the sound of soldiers heading my way. I pushed my horse forward and headed towards the sound while trying not to expose my plan.

As I turned into another corridor, I yanked my horse to a halt when several of the Empire's soldiers on horses blocked my path. I twirled around and cantered back the way I had come, hoping that they wouldn't try to use an arrow to stop me. I came to a screeching stop as I got cut off by more soldiers in front of me.

I looked back the way I had come. There wasn't anywhere else to go. They'd boxed me in. Excellent. They closed in on me, and one of them took control of my horse.

"If you don't mind your highness, we will be leaving." One of the soldiers said. I was taken out of the maze directed to Empire's camp. They stuck me in a tent with guards surrounding the tent, so I didn't go anywhere. It wasn't long until I was put back on a horse and directed away from the camp, in the direction of Ûru Baen. After an hour of riding, I heard the sound of wings, looking up, I saw the red dragon coasting around above us.

We stopped at a small camp where I sensed several powerful spell-weavers, what exactly are they planning? I was helped off the horse since I clearly stated that I couldn't use my right arm. Dirt and sand covered my clothing and face as I was headed over to the spell weavers.

"What exactly do you plan on doing?" I asked crisply.

"Well your highness, we are going to create a portal to get you back home quicker." I raised an eyebrow and let out a huff. The portal was opened, and I was immediately pushed through. I stumbled out the other side and nearly fell onto my face, hands grabbed me and steadied my feet.

"Ah, welcome home, your highness!" I looked at the well-dressed man in front of me. He was beaming from ear to ear. How obnoxious. "Come, come! Your father, the King, is waiting for you."

I was led into a long hall ornately decorated and furnished. As we neared the big doors at the end of the hall, the two guards standing on each side of the door pulled the doors open. At the center of the room was an onyx throne that glittered underneath the lights. Standing next to it was, unfortunately, my father. He turned around, and his eyes brighten.

"You do look like your mother." I stared into his black eyes, yet another reason to feel lucky that I look like my mother.

"So I've been told," I responded coolly.

"Ah Khensamel, you have your mother's temperance. Let me show you your room so you can adjust." I started towards the hallway he gestured to, and we fell into a brisk walk. We headed up a flight of steps before we came across a lone door that had silver decorations. "Here we are."

A guard nearby opened the door, and I swiftly walked into my new room. It was big, open, had tall ceilings, and had large windows on the three sides that faced the surrounding city. I liked my room.

"I'm sure you are tired from your weary trek," my father said before two maids appeared. "These two are at your disposal. We will continue our talk at dinner."

Much to my relief, Galbatorix strode out of the room, and the door was closed.

"Is there something you would like us to do your highness?" I glanced at the two servants. I would have to be very careful around these two.

"Please prepare a bath and a change of clothes, one that covers my entire right arm and shoulder. I don't care if my left arm is exposed but do not under any circumstances, prepare clothing that doesn't cover my right arm and shoulder." They nodded before one disappeared into what I assumed was the bathroom, and the other went to an armoire full of clothing.

I headed over to a table adjacent to the bathroom and relieved my body of the weapons I held. A dull sword and matching dagger. I didn't dare bring my actual weapons with me for fear of losing them. As I set the sheathes onto the table, the one that went into the bathroom came back out.

"Your highness, I have prepared you a bath." I blinked at the girl before responded.

"Thank you, what are your names?"

"I am Lydia, your highness." The one that went to get a change of clothes said, walking over with clothing folded in her hands.

"And I am Frida, your highness." I pulled off my left glove and turned it over in my hands.

"I require another set of gloves, a set with the right one longer than the left." They nodded. "There is one thing I want to be clear about, no one, will help me with my clothing or bathing unless I ask. I will manage on my own. Is that clear?" Another set of nodding.

"Good, I'll be taking a bath, if you could get what I requested and leave it on the bed before leaving when I'm done changing I'm going to need help with my hair. Afterwards, you're free for the afternoon." I twisted around and sauntered into the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it.

I quickly slipped out of my current sand-filled clothing and dropped them in the corner of the bathroom. I turned my right palm up and cast a spell that Master Oromis taught me. My mark disappeared along with my tattoo's. Of course, they weren't gone They were just out of sight. I undid my hair and dropped my crown on a nearby table before stepping into the carved tub of hot water, leaving the sapphire necklace and Murtagh's necklace as the only thing I wore. No way was I risking taking them off at any time while I was here.

The water smelled like the flowers from Ellesméra, gently washing my skin and perfuming it at the same time. I scrubbed every inch of dirt and sand off my body before washing my hair just as thoroughly. I stayed in the water until it got lukewarm. I pushed myself out of the water and dried my body off before wrapping a bathrobe around my body.

I looked at myself in the mirror; all of the dirt and sand had hidden the tiredness my eyes reflected. I hadn't slept in a long time, often relying on Eragon to put me in a trance. But was I going to sleep? I frowned at myself, wondering if it was worth the nightmares and phantom pain.

I closed my eyes for a second before opening them with resolve. I'll give it one more shot, and if it doesn't work, I'll stay awake until exhaustion sets in, again. I unlocked the bathroom door and stepped into my room, glancing around for any trace of someone still in the room. It was clear.

I walked over to my oversized bed and picked up the clothing Frida had selected. There was a thick, white underdress and a simple dark blue overdress that covered everything I had asked. Good, these women listened. I dropped the bathrobe and changed into fresh, clean clothes.

Once I had the two dresses on, I smoothed any ripples in the fabric and put the dark blue slippers that were next to the clothes pile on my feet. The clothing and shoes I was given were surprisingly comfortable. I finally grabbed the glove for my right hand. It was white with embroidery throughout the fabric. I slid it on, satisfied that it covered any exposed skin. I walked over to the door and opened it.

"Is there something you need your highness?" A guard asked.

"Would someone get Lydia and Frida and send them in?"

"Yes, your highness." I quickly shut the door and went to the vanity that had several pieces of jewelry. There were a variety of things on display and even more in the drawers.

"Your highness, you called for us?" I turned around to address the two girls.

"Can one of you please braid my hair?" I asked, holding a couple of strands of wet, black hair.

"Of course, please sit down your highness," Lydia said, gesturing to the chair in front of the vanity. I sat down, and Lydia got to work braiding my hair with her slender fingers. "That is a beautiful pendant, your highness."

I looked at the refection of the pendant in the mirror.

"Thank you. It was a gift from a dear friend and mentor. He always complained that I never dressed like someone of my nobility would. This pendant is his way of telling me that my clothing choices are horrid. I've been yelled at for constantly wearing this leather necklace, but I won't ever take it off." I let out a small laugh at the idea of Master Oromis being my 'dear friend.'

"I believe we can help you in that department, your highness, if you wish, of course."

"That would be much appreciated." I murmured as Lydia finished braiding my long hair.

"Did that necklace belong to someone important to you?" I looked at Lydia in the mirror. "Forgive me for prying your highness."

"It's alright. It belonged to someone important to me, which I haven't seen in a long time. I don't care what people say about it. I will never take it off." I responded, playing with the leather necklace.

"To start, I believe this circlet would pair beautifully with your pendant your highness," Frida said, walking over with a velvet box tied with a ribbon. Frida set the box down on the vanity and gently undid the ribbon. Inside the box sat a silver circlet, the metal was etched with a pattern that reminded me of fire. It was simple but elegant. It matched Oromis's pendant perfectly.

"This is very beautiful Frida. You have made an excellent selection." I murmured while Frida nestled the circlet around the top of my head. "That will be all until after dinner."

Frida and Lydia bowed before leaving my room, letting me simmer in my own thoughts. I sat for a few seconds more before getting up out of the chair and making my way to the door. Time to explore this castle, to the extent that I am allowed. I stepped out of my room and looked around. There were so many places I could go.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Seven: Iridescent

Eragon and Saphira angled south toward the Varden's encampment, but before they traveled more than a few yards, Eragon saw Roran approaching from the Jiet River. Trepidation filled him. Roran stopped directly in front of them, planted his feet wide apart, and stared at Eragon, working his jaw up and down as if he wanted to talk but was unable to get the words past his teeth.

Then he punched Eragon on the chin. It would have been easy for Eragon to avoid the blow, but he allowed it to land, rolling away from it a bit, so Roran did not break his knuckles. It still hurt. Wincing, Eragon faced his cousin.

"I guess I deserved that."

"That you did. We have to talk."

"Now?"

"It can't wait. The Ra'zac captured Katrina, and I need your help to rescue her. They've had her ever since we left Carvahall." In an instant, Eragon realized why Roran appeared so grim and haunted, and why he had brought the entire village to Surda.

Brom was right, Galbatorix sent the Ra'zac back to Palancar Valley. Eragon frowned, torn between his responsibility to Roran and his duty to report to Nasuada. "There's something I need to do first, and then we can talk. All right? You can accompany me if you want...."

"I'll come." As they traversed the pockmarked land, Eragon kept glancing at Roran out of the corner of his eye. Finally, he said in a low voice, "I missed you."

Roran faltered, then responded with a curt nod. A few steps later, he asked, "This is Saphira, right? Jeod said that was her name."

"Aye."

Saphira peered at Roran with one of her glittering eyes. He bore her scrutiny without turning away, which was more than most people could do.

"I have always wanted to meet Eragon and Mal's nest-mate. "

"She speaks!" exclaimed Roran when Eragon repeated her words. This time Saphira addressed him directly.

"What? Did you think I was as mute as a rock lizard?" Roran blinked.

"I beg your pardon. I didn't know that dragons were so intelligent." A grim smile twisted his lips. "First Ra'zac and magicians, now dwarves, Riders, and talking dragons. It seems the whole world has gone mad."

"It does seem that way."

"Where is Mal?" Eragon frowned, realizing that he didn't know where she was.

"I don't know, but we can find out."

"I saw you fight that other Rider. Did you wound him? Is that why he fled?"

"Wait. You'll hear." When they reached the pavilion Eragon was searching for, he swept back the flap and ducked inside, followed by Roran and Saphira, who pushed her head and neck in after them. In the center of the tent, Nasuada sat on the edge of the table, letting a maid remove her twisted armor while she carried on a heated discussion with Arya.

The cut on her thigh had been healed. Nasuada stopped in the middle of her sentence as she spotted the new arrivals. Running toward them, she threw her arms around Eragon and cried, "Where were you? We thought you were dead, or worse."

"Not quite."

"The candle still burns," murmured Arya. Stepping back, Nasuada said, "We couldn't see what happened to you and Saphira after you landed on the plateau. When the red dragon left, and you didn't appear, Arya tried to contact you but felt nothing, so we assumed..." She trailed off.

"We were just debating the best way to transport Du Vrangr Gata and an entire company of warriors across the river."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I was just so tired after the fight, I forgot to lower my barriers." Then Eragon brought Roran forward. "Nasuada, I would like to introduce my cousin, Roran. Ajihad may have mentioned him to you before. Roran, Lady Nasuada, leader of the Varden and my liegelord. And this is Arya Svit-kona, the elves' ambassador."

Roran bowed to each of them in turn.

"It is an honor to meet Eragon's cousin," said Nasuada.

"Indeed," added Arya.

"Nasuada, do you know the whereabouts of Mal? She's going to want to see Roran." Nasuada and Arya exchanged looks before Alethea climbed out of the pack sitting on a nearby table and jumped onto Nasuada's shoulder. "And why isn't Alethea with Mal? They never separate."

"My rider has left for a mission," Alethea said as Roran did a double-take at the small dragon sitting on Nasuada's shoulder.

"WHAT!?!" Nasuada sighed while Alethea huffed and let out a plume of smoke.

"Eragon, Lady Mal has left for a very important mission that is only known to four."

"But why would she leave Alethea! She's her dragon!"

"Eragon," Nasuada started. "Lady Mal went to place far too dangerous for Alethea to follow. She went to Ûru Baen." Eragon's face whitened.

"Why did she do something like that!?!"

"Eragon, Mal is the only heir to the throne of Alegaesia and a dragon rider. They won't kill her; she's left to collect information."

"Wait," Roran interrupted. "Mal is what?"

Eragon turned to Roran with a sigh.

"Please don't hate her," Roran furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Why would I hate her."

"Lady Mal's father is Galbatorix," Nasuada said, cutting in.

"Then who is her mother!?!" Roran gasped out after a few seconds of silence.

"Princess Wënyalín, sister to Queen Islanzadí of the elves." All of this information was too much to process.

"So, you're saying that my adopted cousin is a princess and a dragon rider."

"Essentially, yes," Nasuada said, sitting back in her seat. "Currently, she is Queen of Alageasia until this war is over."

"Nasuada, does Mal know about..."

"I believe she figured it out months ago Eragon. She knows her father well enough to predict his actions. As she said, 'death would be too easy.'"

"Nasuada, they have a history..." Nasuada let out another sigh.

"She will most likely avoid Murtagh like the plague." Roran frowned. "Or at least try to."

"Wait, my sister has a history with this new dragon rider?" Eragon and Nasuada looked uncomfortable for a second.

"She does, she's going to avoid contact with Murtagh since her father is responsible for Murtagh and his dragon's predicament."

"How is she going to hide the fact that she has a Riders mark on her palm and a tattoo of a dragon up her arm?" Eragon asked.

"Lady Mal is currently acting like her hand, arm, and shoulder are still useless. She's been completely wrapping up her arm and wears a glove. If people are smart enough, they will connect her covered arm to her injury and that she doesn't wish it to be exposed." Eragon sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I should have known Mal would do something like this, how is she going to escape?" Nasuada smiled.

"She told me with a smirk, not to worry about that part."

"That sounds like her," Eragon grumbled before Alethea jumped to his shoulder and wrapped her tail around his neck.

"Do not worry. My Rider knows exactly what she's doing."

"Thanks, Alethea," Eragon said quietly, Alethea coasted back to her pack and wiggled into it. They quickly finished up the conversation and headed out of the tent to see the Carvahal villagers. Eragon saw Horst and walked faster.

"Horst!" exclaimed Eragon. Stepping forward, he grasped the smith in a bear hug. "It's good to see you again!"

Horst gaped at Eragon. Then a delighted grin spread across his face. "Blast if it isn't good to see you as well, Eragon. You've filled out since you left."

"You mean since I ran away." Horst shrugged before looking around.

"Is Mal around?" Eragon paused for a second before deciding to inform the villagers. Eragon explained what had happened to Mal, minus Alethea.

"So you're saying the quiet, gentle girl is a princess?" Eragon nodded. "Where is she?"

"Mal went off to do a mission on her own." Horst frowned.

"By herself?" Eragon laughed and nodded his head.

"The Mal you knew in Carvahal is long gone, Mal is very adept with a sword and can take care of herself." Eragon then explained exactly what had transpired since they had left Carvahal. Roran then told what had happened to the villagers.

When at last he finished, Eragon said, "You are a greater man than I. I couldn't have done half those things. Fight, yes, but not convince every-one to follow me."

"I had no choice. When they took Katrina—" Roran's voice broke. "I could either give up and die, or I could try to escape Galbatorix's trap, no matter the cost." He fixed his burning eyes on Eragon. "I have lied and burned and slaughtered to get here. I no longer have to worry about protecting everyone from Carvahall; the Varden will see to that. Now I have only one goal in life, to find and rescue Katrina if she's not already dead. Will you help me, Eragon?"

Reaching over, Eragon grabbed his saddlebags from the corner of the tent—where the Varden had deposited them—and removed a wooden bowl and the silver flask of enchanted faelnirv Oromis had given him. He took a small sip of the liqueur to revitalize himself and gasped as it raced down his throat, making his nerves tingle with ColdFire. Then he poured faelnirv into the bowl until it formed a shallow pool the width of his hand.

"Watch." Gathering up his burst of new energy, Eragon said, "Draumr kópa." The liqueur shimmered and turned black. After a few seconds, a thin key of light appeared in the center of the bowl, revealing Katrina. She lay slumped against an invisible wall, her hands suspended above her with invisible manacles and her copper hair splayed like a fan across her back.

"She's alive!" Roran hunched over the bowl, grasping at it as if he thought he could dive through the faelnirv and join Katrina. His hope and determination melded with a look of such tender affection, Eragon knew that only death could stop Roran from trying to free her.

"I think I need to check on Mal." Eragon cleared the image of Katrina and cast the spell again. This time, thinking of Mal. She appeared with her back to them.

"Are those elf ears?" Horst asked as the picture clarified.

"Mal is a half-elf." Eragon murmured. In the water Mal stiffened before turning around and smiling, it was odd since it was almost like she was smiling at Eragon himself. She spoke some words before turning back around.

"Do you know what she said?" Roran asked, frowning at the picture.

"She said," Eragon started. "That she is fine and knows what she is doing and wishes that we stay safe."

"Did she see us?" Eragon shook his head.

"I don't know; it's never happened before but then again. Mal is pretty powerful. She probably sensed our presence.

"Katrina's alive. And chances are, she's imprisoned in Helgrind, in the Ra'zac's lair." Eragon grasped Roran by the shoulders. "The answer to your question, brother, is yes. I will travel to Dras-Leona with you. I will help you rescue Katrina. And then, together, you and I shall kill the Ra'zac and avenge our father."


	30. Part Three: Radiant

A tale told a thousand times. Only those who dare defy Empire, whisper the true stories. A time of Dragons, Elves, and truth. A time, of Dragon Riders.

The Tale Thus Far:

Mal has embarked on the most dangerous mission in her life. Travel to Urû'Baen, and learn all that she can about her father and his intentions. Complication? One word.

Murtagh.


	31. Chapter Twenty-Eight: Radiant

My feet were silent on the polished stone flooring as I walked down the hallway. I passed many rooms and many guards and ended up near a place that was very heavily guarded. I headed straight for the doors and slowly pushed one open. The guards didn't even bat an eyelash.

At the center of the room was a shiny green dragon egg, the last dragon egg. I walked around the pedestal that held the egg slowly, looking at the fine webbing across the shell. Memories of Alethea's egg returned to me, our time together when she was just a newborn hatchling. I stopped circling the egg and ran a finger down the side of the egg. This egg was just as smooth as Alethea's was.

I then ran all of my fingers across the shell, I wanted to take off with this egg and run back to the Varden, but I couldn't do that. I still had a lot more to do here.

"Beautiful isn't it." I didn't bother turning around.

"Yes, it is. It won't hatch for me though if that's what you're wanting. I'm not the person for this hatchling." I murmured, sliding my fingers down the shell once more before removing them.

"Will you please join me for dinner? I am sure you are hungry." I turned around to face Galbatorix and inclined my head.

"Indeed, I am." Galbatorix swiftly turned around and strode back down the hallway with me following closely from behind. After a few turns, we ended up in a dining room that was drenched in onyx. I guess my father had a thing for black. I sat down in the chair opposite from Galbatorix's as servants came in with plates of food.

"How is your mother doing?" His question took me off guard. I blinked for a few moments before responding.

"She is getting by though she can be quite emotional sometimes. She wasn't happy when I left her to travel to Surda." I spoke calmly and evenly. "...she still loves you."

I spoke the last words quietly, Galbatorix had an inscrutable look on his face before he sighed and picked up his fork.

"That sounds like Wënyalín," I picked up my fork and started to eat the fruits and vegetables in front of me nimbly.

"What is it that you want me to do? I highly doubt I have anything that could be of use to you or the empire."

"Someone has to carry on my bloodline, why not my own daughter?"

"So you want me to marry." Galbatorix crossed his fingers in front of himself and leaned back.

"If you wish to put it that bluntly, yes. I only want what is best for you." I was a little disturbed at how ordinary Galbatorix was right now. I haven't seen a wink of the madman I know is in there. Dinner progressed normally until Galbatorix excused himself for a meeting with his 'advisors.'

I placed my napkin on my empty plate before gracefully rising from my seat and heading into the hall that overlooked a good portion of the city. The glittering lights were harsher than the ones in Ellesméra, and I found myself missing the vast forest of Du Weldenvarden. A flash of color reflected off a mass in the sky. Murtagh, he must be back, I watched as the massive red dragon descended into an area I presumed was his nest.

He was too big for his age; Galbatorix must have sped up his growth with magic. My heart cried for the hatchling that was born under my father's control. I stopped staring at where the dragon and Murtagh had disappeared to and started to walk down the hall again. There has to be a balcony around here somewhere so I can breathe fresh air. The air inside Galbatorix's castle was heavy and weighed me down.

After walking around for a half-hour, I finally found a balcony. My first breath of fresh air was intoxicatingly soothing. I rested my left hand on the stone railing while I observed Ûru Baen. This city was much too crowded for me. I stayed on the balcony for another half hour before making my way back to my room. I entered my room tiredly and walked over to my bed to sit down as Frida and Lydia scurried into the room.

"Your highness, you look exhausted, shall I get you your sleeping gown." I looked at Lydia an indication to do so while Frida gingerly put the circlet back in its box and retied the ribbon. Lydia then walked over to me with a folded white nightgown.

"Thank you. You're dismissed for the night." They left my room in a hurry. I changed into the nightgown. It was long-sleeved and had a tie at the front to loosen or tighten the nightgown. As I walked over to the covered window's the nightgown brushed my ankles softly. Never in my life have I worn something like this. I drew open every single drape until moonlight lit my room. I turned in a circle, soaking in the moonlight. I will now attempt to sleep.

I climbed into my oversized bed and wiggled underneath the silk sheets. I turned onto my side and looked out one of the windows once more before closing my eyes and attempting to sleep.

I rolled on the floor, wincing the pain in my body away while Eragon started to fight the Shade. I quickly got to my feet when the Shade shouted something at the Urgals, I was pushed down, and a spear was sent through my right shoulder, pinning me to rock floor. I let out a shriek but quickly silenced it. Blood started to drip from my shoulder and onto the stone, quickly turning cold.

I couldn't do anything to help Eragon, and the Shade bore down on him. Eragon screamed when Durza sliced open his back. Blood started to drip down his armor. I rested my face on the cold stone, feeling my blood touch my face and quickly turn cold. I was useless, powerless, to save Eragon. Quick as lightning, Durza drove his blade into Eragon's chest. I lost the ability to breathe for a few seconds before letting out a piercing scream.

I shot straight up, silencing the scream that had managed to get halfway out. My shoulder throbbed with phantom pain as a guard opened the door.

"Is everything alright, your highness?" I picked up a candelabra and chucked it at the guard's head. It hit the wall next to the guard's head and broke into pieces as it hit the floor.

"GET OUT!" The guard quickly retreated behind my door as I drew my knees to my chest and wrapped my left arm around them. One night. All I was asking for was one night of peaceful sleep where I didn't have to deal with the emotional and physical pain.

I dropped my head onto my knees for a few minutes and waited for my shoulder, arm, and hand to stop hurting. My entire body was shaking; I haven't had one that painful in a long time. I was exhausted, and sleep was out of the question. I didn't want to be curled on the floor in pain because I was foolish enough to think it would be okay to sleep.

I took some deep breaths in as the pain in my arm started to subside, when it disappeared completely, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. I'll just walk around the castle for the rest of the night to kill time left before everyone would start to wake up.

I opened my door and stalked past the guards who flinched away from me. I silently made my way down the hall, not wearing the gloves like I usually do. I was tired of it. I made my way outside to an open patio. Steps lead down to the horse stables and the red dragon's nest.

With my mind made up, I descended the stairs. My white nightgown and slippers illuminated in the moonlight, creating a stark contrast to the dark stone that surrounded the castle, inside and out. At the bottom of the stairs I walked into the horse stables, I walked down the aisle looking at all of the magnificent horses and missing Tornoc. I got to the end of the stables where a door opened up to the red dragon's nest and paused. What exactly would this dragon be like?

The guards near the door looked at me like I was crazy for even being in the vicinity of the red dragon. I pushed away my uncertainties and glided into the large room where the red dragon was curled up. I stayed at the edge of the room, looking at the dragon's vibrant scales.

"I know you." I looked at the red dragon's head to see him looking at me. His deep ruby eyes blinked at me slowly.

"What is your name?" I asked the dragon as gently as possible. A puff of smoke left the dragons nostrils.

"Thorn."

"A fitting name," I commented before walking up to Thorn's head and trailing my fingers across his ruby scales. "I am so sorry for what has been forced upon you."

"You wear his necklace." One of my hands immediately went to the leather necklace.

"I do, I didn't want to forget." I then placed my hand on Thorn's scaly head and ran my fingers over the fiery red scales.

"Why are you awake at this time of night?" Thorn asked as I rubbed his cheeks and snout. I smiled when he let out a puff of smoke in contentment; he probably rarely felt like this.

"I can't sleep." Thorn saw right through my words.

"Can't or won't?"

"Both." I dropped my hand back to my side, thinking deeply about the last couple of months. I don't know how I got through them. I felt a soft nudge on my head. I looked up at Thorn.

"Maybe he can help?" I looked at Thorn with a shocked expression.

"I... how will he even be able to help me? He probably doesn't even want to see my face since my father is the reason why you two are in this predicament." I thought as I shook my head. "I've kept a lot of secrets from him. There are still things he doesn't know."

"That doesn't change anything little elf. Would you like to stay here and try to get some rest?" I looked at Thorn in his eyes with a shocked expression.

"Would you mind?" Thorn let out another puff of smoke and moved one of his front feet and leg in a position that I could curl up in.

"Sleep little elf." I rapidly climbed up onto Thorn's leg and curled myself up in a ball in the nook he had created. Just being near a dragon automatically calmed my whole body down and I was able to drift into a peaceful sleep

****************

Thorn examined the little elf currently curled up in a ball and sleeping on his leg. She resembled the little elf he had seen in Murtagh's memories. It had been at least eight months since the memories. Whatever had happened to her in the past months, had left an effect on her.

The angle of her sharp blue eyes seemed more profound. The contours of her face had lost their softness in favor of sharper, curvier edges. The weight that seemed to bring balance to her body previously was gone, in place what looked like a hard hewn muscle.

He didn't blame her one bit for his and Murtagh's position. Galbatorix had plucked her image from his Rider's mind and had seemed shocked by her appearance. Then he had pulled every little detail about her from his Rider's mind until he was left delirious.

Thorn blinked down at the elf. She was a burst of light in their dark world. Thorn wondered how the little elf could possibly be related to Galbatorix. They were complete opposites.

When Thorn had first seen the little elf standing at the perimeter of his nest, his eyes fixated on the leather necklace she wore. It was the same one that Murtagh used to wear. He instantly knew who she was; the memories Murtagh had shared had left him yearning to see the little elf and Thorn had no idea why. And here she was, curled up on his leg, fast asleep.

"Murtagh, come," Thorn asked Murtagh, knowing that he would want to see her. Unlike what the little elf thought.

"What?"

"Little Elf," Thorn said no more and returned his attention to the little elf once more. She looked so innocent curled up on his leg. He wanted to protect this little elf. She was the first person beside Murtagh that purposely spent time around him. She didn't fear him.

"What did you mean by little elf?" Murtagh said as he walked into Thorn's nest. Thorn blinked at him slowly before gently moving his wing to reveal the sleeping elf. Murtagh's eyes went wide, and he stopped short, his face going white.

Thorn let a puff of smoke out of his nostrils. Murtagh crept closer, unsure if his eyes were showing a mirage or the truth. Reaching forward, he lightly brushed the strands of onyx hair away to real a slim face. Underneath his fingers, Mal's head twitched slightly, as if sensing his touch.

"He really did find her…" Murtagh muttered before looking up at his dragon. "What is she doing here in your nest?"

"She was walking around and ended up in here," Thorn replied. Murtagh could understand why she migrated here.

"She spent a lot of time with Saphira." Murtagh murmured to himself as Thorn gently laid his head back down on the pine-straw covered nest. "She probably came here instinctually."

"He wants something from her," Thorn said as another puff of smoke emitted from his nostrils. "Why else would he bother tracking her down."

"He wants the other egg to hatch," Murtagh said realization hit him. "It's in her blood."

"Possibly." Thorn rumbled sleepily as Murtagh rubbed his head.

"Do you know why she is here instead of in her room, sleeping on a bed?"

"She said she couldn't sleep."

"Can't or won't?"

"I asked the same. She said both. You should take her back to her room, so she is sleeping on something softer, and be careful."

"Be careful?"

"She has already thrown a candelabra at one of the guards in her room."

"She did what?"

"She had a bad dream and woke up screaming, the guard outside her door came in to check on her, and she threw a candelabra at his head." Murtagh sighed.

"That sounds like the Mal I know. I'll take her back then, while she's still asleep. Last time I woke her up, she drew a dagger on me." Murtagh grumbled as he thought about the night that Mal was too tired to walk back to her room, so she slept in his cell. She had wanted to sleep on the floor, but Murtagh had forced her to take the bed. Mal had not been happy with him.

Thorn let out a snort before moving slightly so Murtagh could pick up the sleeping Mal. Sliding his arms underneath her back, Murtagh pulled Mal against his chest before easing her off Thorn's leg.

Head resting against his arm, Murtagh exited the nest and headed for the castle. Glancing down at the sleeping half-elf, his heart dropped. His old necklace that had been left behind by the twins was wrapped around her neck. That could only mean she had gone looking for him and had come across the bloody clothes that had been left behind.

How many months went by with her thinking he was dead?

Entering the castle, Murtagh made his way to Mal's room, still being extra careful not to wake her up. When he rounded the corner to her door, the guards started to inch away from him — giving Mal weary and nervous looks. Murtagh couldn't help but smirk. She does leave a lasting impression.

He entered her room and headed for her bed. The sheets were already pulled back, probably from when Mal got out of the bed. He set Mal gently down onto the soft mattress and took the white slippers she was wearing off before pulled the covers up. Her white nightgown made her black hair look even darker, and her skin practically translucent.

Pulling the covers back over the sleeping Mal, he hesitated in leaving her to sleep. Not a day had gone by since his capture that he didn't think of her. Reaching up, he brushed his knuckles along her jaw once more.

Whatever her father had planned for her, he knew it wasn't going to be good. And Murtagh didn't know if he could even help her.


	32. Chapter Twenty-Nine: Radiant

I think I got a fair amount of sleep before the dreams came back. They came back with a vengeance leaving me moaning in pain on my bed. Wait, I fell asleep on Thorn last night, how did I end back up in my room. I blinked at the ceiling, waiting for the pain to go away as I also thought about how I ended back in my room.

When I was able to sleep, I woke up very easily. How did I get moved without me waking up? I pushed the thoughts of how I ended up back in my bed aside and considered how fast I fell asleep laying on Thorn. It was like I didn't even have to try, it just felt natural. I groaned and slapped my left hand on my face. The only relief I would get was it if I always stayed near Thorn while I was asleep. That was not an option.

I swung my feet over the side of the bed and stood up. My feet met cold stone. I looked down. Whoever brought me back here had the brains to remove my slippers. I picked up my white slippers and put them on before signaling for Frida and Lydia. They hurried in with a tray of food. While Lydia set the tray down and started to fiddle with the contents, Frida disappeared into my closet.

"The King always has a busy schedule; you are free to do whatever you like during the day your highness," Lydia said as she finished up setting out silverware.

"Is there a library?" I asked as I sat down at the table in my room and picked a silver spoon.

"Yes there is, there is quite a book selection your highness." I could spend my time reading and maybe continue to practice writing.

"Can you have some parchment and a spot of ink sent to the library?" Lydia nodded and quickly left my room. I stirred the warm oats absentmindedly while I thought of ways I could train without notice. I could to the Dance that Master Oromis taught me, it was now widely used to become strong and flexible.

I focused back on my breakfast and only picked at it. My appetite was going downhill and has been for a while. The dreams kept my appetite at bay. After only taking a few bites, I stood up and took the offered clothing from Frida.

"I will only be gone for a moment. Please wait here." Frida nodded back before I turned around and entered my bathroom, locking the door behind me. I slipped out of my nightgown and slippers before dressing myself in the dress that Frida had pulled out for me.

The dress was a lighter blue than the dress I wore last night but had more detailing with gold trim decorating the sleeves. By court standards, this dress was plain. By my standards, this was very formal.

I was missing my leather corset and pants. I sighed and adjusted the dress one more time before stepping into the matching slippers. I made sure that my right hand was gloved and my arm and shoulder were covered one more time before exiting the bathroom to have Frida fix my hair for the day.

Frida took the hair near my ears and clipped them together at the back, leaving the rest of my hair down. It was simple but perfect. My hair was finished off with Hrothgar's crown.

"Will that be all your highness?" I stood up as gracefully as I could in the dresses skirt, it wasn't large, but I was used to having little to no skirt, just flowing fabric.

"For now, yes. Please inform me when it is lunchtime." Frida bowed before exiting my room. I saw the pieces of the candle holder I had thrown at the guard's head had been cleaned up. Hopefully, he learned his lesson to stay out no matter what he hears. I'll just get Galbatorix to remove the guards. They were unnecessarily stationed.

I walked down the corridor and made some turns before I came across the library. Inside, the library was spacious and smelled heavily of parchment and ink. I headed for a table that had an ink well and several pieces of parchment.

I picked up the feathered quill and went through all of the exercises Master Oromis had taught me. The only sound that graced the library was the scratching of my quill across the parchment. It almost felt like I was back in Master Oromis's hut doing the exercises while he watched with his wise eyes. I wasn't going to let my mind fool me into thinking that I was safe and sheltered from prying eyes.

It didn't take long for me to finish the exercises. I checked my work and the neatness of my quill marks. It looked good, just the way Master Oromis would want it to be. Neat, orderly. I set the parchment to the side and got a new one to practice writing in the Ancient language. I wanted to make sure I fully understood the language, like Master Oromis said, 'there are many ways to go about something, what matters is how.' Energy expenditure was a topic that was heavily implied in every exercise we did.

I stood up from the table and started to walk around the library, in search of scrolls that I could glean information from. I picked up a few that were about war and strategy. They would be useful. I set the scriptures on the table before walking through the library once more. I turned down an aisle that was at the back of the library, somewhat hidden. There was plenty of light due to the many windows that decorated the stone walls.

The scrolls in this section were coated in dust. No one had been back here in a long time. I picked up a couple of scrolls on one of the shelves and brushed the dust off. History of Alaegeasia I already knew. I set the scroll back on the shelf and looked up the scrolls on the top shelf. There was a raggedy scroll that looked years older than the others.

I stretched on my toes, trying to reach the scroll, all I could do was brush my fingers against the very edge of the scroll. I let out a growl and tried to grab the scroll one more time. I started to curse under my breath about my height. I just had to be short. My fingers once again brushed against the bottom of the scroll. A hand appeared next to mine and grabbed the scroll.

I froze and refused to turn around. I had been so immersed in getting the scroll I hadn't even sensed him walk into the library. I returned to my normal height and played around with the scrolls I had already pulled out. Murtagh set the scroll down next to the others.

I stopped fiddling with the other scrolls and picked up the scroll I hadn't been able to reach. I turned around just enough to head in the direction of the exit and tried to bolt for the door. I just ended up caged in with no exit.

"Are you just going to ignore me, your highness?"

"You know I hate being called that," I said, deciding that the scrolls looked extremely interesting. "Is there something you need?"

"This is a library. I think I'm entitled to visit it."

"I mean is there something you need from me!" I snapped as I gathered the scrolls in my arms.

"Do you normally take midnight walks?" I narrowed my eyes at him, that would explain how I got back to my room last night.

"It's a new habit."

"And is throwing candelabrums at your guards head a new habit as well?" I scowled at Murtagh.

"Do you like people entering your room when you're trying to sleep?"

"Well, when the guards usually hear screaming, that usually isn't a good thing." He replied, leaning against the nearest bookcase.

"Well, the guards need to mind their own business." I snapped as I stalked over to the table I had been occupying. I dropped the scrolls on the surface and braced my arms against the table.

I needed to be mean. I needed him to hate me. I needed him to detest my presence.

"I didn't know you were interested in military tactics."

"And why would you care what I'm interested in?" I spat out. I was inwardly stumbling over every word that left my mouth. My fingers dug into the solid wood of the table as I forced the harsh words I didn't mean out of my mouth.

"I know what you are trying to do, Mal."

"Then if you do, you will know that I want you to leave!" A hand touched my arm. I jerked my arm away from the touch and bit my lip.

"Forgive my intrusion, your highness. Your lunch is ready." Frida said from the doorway of the library.

"Thank you, Frida, I will be right there," I responded evenly before gathering the scrolls and standing up straight. I turned around and stared into the ornate design of Murtagh's tunic. "If you will excuse-- "

My words were cut off when two hands seized my face. My head was forced upwards, so I had to stare into grey eyes. Hurt. Pain. Suffering. Desperation. Those feelings filtered into my mind and body, causing a shiver to go up my spine.

"I know what you are trying to do, Mal," Murtagh repeated in a soft voice. "I know what you are trying to do, and it won't work."

"Any what is that?" I countered back, raising an eyebrow.

"Excuse me, your highness!" Lydia's voice rang out through the empty library. I jerked back slightly and slipped passed Murtagh before striding over to her.

"Yes?" Lydia bowed her head.

"Forgive us, but Frida and I forgot to mention tonight's ball, we need to start preparing you soon if you are to be ready." I smiled at Lydia.

"No trouble at all, I was just about to return to my room," I replied as I glided over to her. "Shall we?"

Lydia and I left the library and headed back for my room. But the entire way down the hall, I could feel a burning gaze in my back. Hurrying back to my room, I quickly ate a bowl of fruit as Lydia and Frida dove into my closet.

Just as I finished off a bunch of grapes, the two women pulled a sparkling blue gown out of the closet. It was an off the shoulder ballgown with a cathedral train that was so large I was sure that the material could be used to make two separate dresses.

"You do realize that I need to move in that monstrosity," I commented as they hung it on my mirror.

"It might look like you wouldn't be able to walk in it, but it's mostly on the train," Lydia said as she smoothed out nonexistent wrinkles. Frida started to riffle through one of the larger chests in my room as if she was looking for something in particular. "Besides, the female population of Ûru'Baen is a bunch of scheming, conniving, sociopathic quim's who find pleasure in the suffering of others."

"Lydia!" Frida erupted, giving Lydia a look. "What would your dam say!?!"

"She'd say the exact same thing," Lydia quipped. "Only in more vulgarity."

I heard Frida sigh. It sounds like Lydia's mother is the type of woman I enjoy in my company.

"You need not worry about such language," I replied whimsically. "I can tell the difference between a mewling quim and an obtuse heifer."

The sound of something hitting the floor met my ears as Lydia started to let out gasps of breath. Frowning, I looked up at Lydia and saw her turning red as she tried to stop the laughter that I was sure wanted to erupt from her mouth. Frida marched into view and gave both Lydia and me stern looks.

"Need I have to separate the two of you!?!" She demanded as she placed her hands on her hips. I pressed my lips together as my body shook from laughter. Grumbling Frida went back to digging through the jewelry chest.


	33. Chapter Thirty: Radiant

"I can't believe the difference," Lydia said for the hundredth time. "I'm mean you were pretty before but now your beautiful. Those court ladies aren't going to know what hit them."

Lydia and Frida had talked me into trying cosmetics that the nobility used — arguing that it would be perfect. So, Lydia had spent a great deal of time outlining my eyes with this charcoal paste that honestly looked questionable. 

Frida, on the other hand, had spent nearly an hour on my hair, first brushing it out, and then styling it. Frida had decided to pull my hair entirely up, leaving a few strands to frame my face, so the porcelain skin of my neck was shown.

"Frida, what color lip paint do you think would go nicely? I'm leaning towards the pink, but perhaps a red?"

"Red might be too bold of a color," Frida spoke from behind me as she placed pins in my hair. "I think a deep rose color would do nicely."

"Deep rose color it is." Lydia chirped as she put the brush covered in the black, questionable paste, down. Plucking a jar from the tray of cosmetics, Lydia unscrewed the top and picked up a new brush. "Have you ever used lip paint before."

"This is me we are talking about. I have no idea what any of this is." I replied dryly as Lydia dipped the brush into the pink concoction.

"Lip paint is exactly what it sounds like, lip paint," Frida explained as the brush glided across my lips. "It provides color and uniqueness."

"Not to mention, it shows one's status level," Lydia muttered as she moved onto my lower lip.

"Exactly how does it show status?" I asked as Lydia dipped the brush back into the jar.

"The quality and clarity of the color, as well as the texture and how long it lasts," Lydia replied as she finished up. "You might notice that some woman tonight will be reapplying lip paint periodically."

"What's the quality of this one?" I asked, looking at the tray of lip paints. In the mirror, both Lydia and Frida smirked at me.

"The best, you won't be needing to reapply tonight," Frida said before she started to unwrap the black box, she had pulled from the jewelry chest. "I hope you are up for the shock of your lifetime."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked as a silver object was removed from the box. With delicate hands, Frida gently placed a crown on my head. Unlike anything I expected from the collection at the castle, the crown looked like it had been made of twigs, leaves, berries, and flowers.

"Your mother was a woman loved not just by your father," Frida said as she adjusted the crown around my hair. Lydia grew quiet as Frida pulled out a sapphire choker, the choker was locked around my neck. "Tonight, your father will present you to the people as his daughter, and..."

"And you just made me look like my mother?" I finished, guessing what she was going to say. Frida shook her head and sighed at me.

"Not just like your mother, your highness. The night before she fled the city, a grand ball was held, it was a marvelous night…"

I finally realized what she was saying. A small smile crossed my deep pink lips. This night might just turn out alright. Frida and Lydia finished with my makeup and hair before the started the enormous task of getting me into the blue gown.

Lydia held my skirts to the side as Frida's nimble finger pulled the corset of the dress as tight as it would go. Once that was done, Lydia crawled on her feet and helped me step into the crystal embedded slippers pulled from the closet.

Once Frida deemed me ready, she and Lydia spread the skirt of my dress back out. I spent the next half hour learning how to walk in the dress, and during those minutes, neither of my maids would let me see myself.

"Are you two finally going to let me see myself in the mirror?" I asked, almost to the begging point. It was a nagging feeling, not knowing what I looked like when their work had finally come together.

Lydia went to the covered mirror and pulled the sheet off. I walked up to the mirror with my head down and took a deep breath before looking up.

The court and nobility of Ûru'Baen gathered in small groups in the magnificent ballroom of their King. Small talk and gossip filled the air as uniformed butlers paraded drinks and small bites around the large room.

The court ladies, dressed in their rich and luxurious gowns twittered together, gossiping about the handsome men and the Dragon Rider that their King had acquired.

"I heard that he's as strong as one hundred soldiers!" A woman gossiped to her friend.

"No! He's as strong as a thousand!" Another cried as the daughter of the King's right-hand servant rolled her eyes.

"Be realistic, ladies." Yilba Stronsdaughter drawled out, disgusted by their open adoration. "I'm sure the man is strong, and his muscles gleam underneath his tunic, but strong as a thousand men? Please."

The two gossiping women glowered at Yilba before twittering away in haste. Yilba curled a lip as she watched the two hussies retreat.

"Can you believe those two?" One of Yilba's posse hissed out.

"How uncouth,"

"The nerve,"

"Ladies!" Yilba said, raising a hand sharply. "Calm yourselves, do not stoop to a level such as theirs!"

"Always so astute,"

"Wise as ever!"

A venomous smile crossed Yilba's face as the comments came rushing from her followers. It was Yilba that was above the others, so they should rightfully always listen to her.

"Yilba, looking beautiful as always." Yilba's smile turned into one that was sickly sweet as she turned to face the brother of her closest friend.

"Brortru, how kind your words are," Yilba purred, extending her hand. Brortru took her hand and kissed the back.

"Only the truth, my lady," Brortru replied as his sister and Yilba greeted each other.

"Tolme, is that Bikli?" Yilba asked, eyeing the green gown. The bodice was pure, ribbed fabric while the skirt was full of feathers.

"Father had it specially made it for me," Tolme replied as she took in Yilba's dress. It was a blood red color with small rubies crusted over the bodice. The skirt was layered embroidery and even more rubies. "Red looks beautiful on you."

Yilba smirked. She had chosen red for a reason. The main being that it was the color of the dragon that the Rider owned. It was her plan to lure him to her.

"You're such a darling," Yilba replied as the two linked arms. "Shall we?"

"I heard that we will finally get to see the elusive Dragon Rider tonight," Tolme said airily.

"Don't tell me you are just as enamored as the others?" Yilba question, curling her lip. Tolme clicked her tongue.

"I have more dignity than these harlots," Tolme replied as the King strode into the ballroom. He clapped his hands, and the lights dimmed so. Only the ones near the throne shone brightly.

"Welcome to another beautiful night, here in Ûru'Baen!" Galbatorix boomed. "I thank you for gathering for this momentous occasion. I am sure many of you have wondered why I have decided to celebrate at such a time, but I can assure you, our Empire had only grown stronger by the recent event!"

The room thundered with applause as Yilba and Tolme exchanged looks, both wondering what had made their King put on such a display at a time when he was most angered. The lights returned to normal, and the chatter resumed.

"What could possibly put our King in such a gracious mood?"

"Perhaps he killed the rogue Dragon Rider?" Tolme supplied. Yilba shot Tolme a look.

"Don't be stupid, he can't kill the rouge Dragon Rider. The Dragon is a female." Tolme bit her lip, stopping her from snarling back a few words. Why she was even friends with Yilba was still a mystery.

She was cruel, unkind, and never thought about anyone else save herself. To protect her eyes from such unpleasantness, Tolme decided to look around the grand room. Her father was still looking for a suitable husband. Maybe if she made good connections with a few of the Lord's sons, she would find one.

Claw like fingernails dug into Tolme's arm, causing her to let out a faint squeak. Tolme's eyes went to her and saw that Yilba's grip had turned vice-like.

"Yilba, you are hurting me." Tolme whispered, trying not to sound weak or in pain. Yilba made no notion of hearing her, for her eyes were locked on something near the throne. "Yilba!"

"Quiet!" Yilba hissed, her nails digging even deeper. Tolme's eyes went to Yilba's face, and she instantly knew why Yilba was acting so. Her eyes were set on a prize. Tolme followed Yilba's gaze until she too, was enraptured.

Standing at the base of the dais on which the throne sat, was a young man. He had brown hair that was brushed, so it sat behind his ears and grey eyes that would pull any woman who looked into them in.

Unlike the rest of the men in the room who wore colorful arrays of tunics and gemstones, this man wore black and oozed darkness and power. Tall black boots covered long black pants trimmed in red. His tunic, while seemingly dull, was trimmed in the same red as his pants and shimmered with luxury but what caught Tolme's eyes was the blood-red sword strapped to his waist. Only one man in Ûru'Baen had a sword that color.

Yilba would be on him like a pack of starving dogs to an injured cat. Tolme stole another glance at Yilba, had she heard the woman whisper something? Or was it just her imagination? Tolme followed Yilba as she started to make her way over to the brooding man.

"Yilba, he looks like the does not want to be disturbed." Tolme murmured.

"Nonsense, men are all the same, and that includes Dragon Riders," Yilba replied, dismissing Tolme's words. Tolme bit her lip and said no more. Yilba, finally in sights of the Dragon Rider, straightened her posture and tugged at her neckline. "If there is one thing that you can rely on, Tolme, it's that men only want one thing."

With those words, Yilba strode up to the man and batted her eyelashes.

"Excuse me," Yilba said, dropping her voice into a husky tone. Grey eyes turned towards Yilba and Tolme. Tolme wanted to shrink back. He definitely did not want to be talked to. "My father has left to talk to some lords, and I am finding myself lonesome."

"I fail to see how that affects me," Tolme had to bite back a laugh at his short, cold words. Yilba reared back from the unexpected words.

"I was hoping," Yilba continued, pressing me great bustle up against his arm. "that you'd be kind enough to wait with me until he gets back."

Tolme watched as the dark, stormy grey eyes focused on Yilba. She knew that the Rider was well aware of what Yilba wanted, but was impressed by the way he handled it. Very few men were able to resist Yilba's charm and assets.

A hush fell through the ballroom, drawing the Rider's attention away from Yilba. Tolme's personal attention turned towards the main entrance to the ballroom. A she-elf stood at the entrance, drawing all eyes.

The she-elf stood tall with pitch-black hair pulled back, and a crown of silver dusted with sparkling white gemstones. Around a porcelain neck wrapped a sapphire necklace that shined with every movement. Her dress was simple, so simple it outshined every other in the room, made only of a shimmering blue fabric that fell softly on her body and arms.

To top it all off, sparkling slanted blue eyes outlined in kohl accompanied by the most in-depth pink lip paint that any of the guests ever had the luxury of setting eyes on. Tolme watched as the attention Yilba had been seeking from the Rider, emerged, only to be placed on the stunningly beautiful she-elf that had just entered the ballroom.

To those that recognized the she-elf, they all sucked in a deep breath. Even the breath from their King Galbatorix, was stolen. Their queen, the one they held above all others, had finally returned.

It was Wënyalín.


	34. Chapter Thirty-One: Radiant

I stood tall as the sound of breaths being sucked into bodies reached my ears. Eye’s scanning the crowd, I noted that some of the humans had turned white, others began to weep, and some had disbelief on their faces.

With a part in the crowd nearest the dais, my father strode towards me with a face that hid paleness. I began to walk towards him and met him halfway, taking his outstretched hand, and letting him guide me up to the dais and in front of the high class of Ûru’Baen.

“Our Empire, as strong as it has been over the last years, has only grown stronger with the arrival of my daughter,” My father announced, holding my arm out to show me to the large crowd. “Princess Khensamel!”

The crowd clapped voraciously in response as I started at the back of the room. As long as I didn’t make eye contact with anyone citizen, I wouldn’t get dragged into a meaningless and dull conversation.

It was hard enough that I was wearing the exact outfit my mother had worn the last time anyone in Ûru’Baen had seen her, the last thing I wanted was for some idiot mistaking me for an airheaded twat.

“Let the dancing commence!” At his words, the orchestra began to play, and couples started filing onto the floor.

“I wasn’t aware you kept anything of my mothers,” I said quietly as the couples started to twirl about the room. My father looked at me.

“Your mother and I,” He started. “Our relationship was not that of a normal one. Even after she left, I still held onto what she had left behind as a memory.”

“It matters not what you are. Relationships can find their way into the tallest walls. No matter how much you resist.” I said quietly. “I shall make my rounds.”

I stepped down from the dais and began to walk among the guests. It was easy to pick out a group of potential suitors. They all huddled in a group, whispering to each other and giving me nervous looks.

“So you are our King’s long lost daughter,” A nasal voice asked interrupting my thoughts. I turned to see a yellow-haired girl in a blood-red dress over studded with rubies. The girl touched her chest. “Forgive me for not doing so earlier. I am Yilba Stronsdaughter, daughter to the King’s advisor.”

My eyes carefully analyzed her as I gently pushed into her mind and that of the girl standing next to her. Instantly I gauged the type of person she and the other was.

“No offense taken,” I calmly replied with a smile. “I myself am still new to Ûru’Baen, and have not yet familiarized myself with the nobility.”

A flash of anger flickered behind the eyes of Yilba. She wasn’t used to being an afterthought.

“Your dress is stunning,” Yilba replied, her eyes dancing over the material in jealousy. “Where did you have it made?”

“This is my mother’s dress,” I answered with a smile. “I’m afraid I do not know the maker.”

“I am fond of Borcad,” Yilba announced like I would care. “I find that it is highly refined and of the best material.”

The girl next to her shrank back slightly and clutched at the skirts of her simple, but pretty gown. I had a feeling that her dress came from a different shop.

“Your highness, I wondered if any of the suitors has caught your eye,” Yilba mused, tapping a finger to her bright red lip. “Perhaps I could introduce you to a few? They don’t bite, that is unless you want them to.”

Tolme blushed bright red at Yilba’s words, fully understanding the meaning behind them. Was this Yilba’s way of steering me away from any men she had her eyes and potentially her claws on?

“Thank you for your offer,” I replied. “but I highly doubt that any one of them would be able to handle such a task.”

One of Yilba’s eyebrows rose in the air. With a charming smile and a dangerous gleam in my eye, I shut her down.

“You see, they might not bite, but I do.” With those words, Tolme covered her mouth to smother her giggles while Yilba tried to hide her embarrassment. I spent the next hour and a half moving around the ballroom, making small talk with some of the nobility and trying hard not to smirk at the angry Yilba who stood fuming next to the man unfortunate enough to be paired with her to dance.

I drank several glasses of the wine that floated around the room and occasionally nibbled on the fresh fruit provided. I tried to find someone who I could have a decent conversation, but most of the nobles seemed to be empty-headed fools. At least the girl who had been shadowing Yilba seemed decent enough.

By the time the music slowed down, and the dancing turned to a romantic crawl, I ended up back where I started. Yilba’s voice, I found, could be clearly picked out, not even elvan ears needed. Its nasally quality provided a grating sound on my ears.

“Your highness, do you not like to dance?” Yilba asked as she approached me. I looked at her.

“I do, but I prefer to dance with someone that at least provides a mental stimulus, not one whose conversation resembles a rock.” Yilba’s eyes twitched.

“You seek an intellect?” Yilba countered, raising an eyebrow. “Why not power? Money?”

“One can have everything in the world and still be lonely,” I replied wistfully. “I’d rather be happy, then bathe in gold.”

“What is happiness to you then?” Yilba straightened her posture and ran a finger over her freshly pink lips as I stilled. I wasn’t expecting him to be here tonight. Actually, I was expecting him to be as far as possible from an event like this.

“I was unaware that you were in attendance,” I said as I gripped my skirts a twirled them around. Murtagh had switched his leather for a black and red-trimmed tunic and pants, a combination that suited him quite well.

“It was a last-minute decision,” Murtagh responded before holding out his hand. “I see you have not danced once this evening; might I inspire you for one?”

I pressed my painted lips together as I tried to keep my eye from twitching. The man had obviously overheard my comments about the lackluster men at this ball and stepped forward for the challenge. There was no way I could refuse, not in front of all these people. Giving in to request, I reached out and placed my hand into his and let him lead me to the edge of the dance floor.

“What are you doing?” I hissed at him.

“Besides rescuing you from a painfully grating voice?” Murtagh asked while I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m going to dance with you.”

I resisted the urge to bark back at him as he joined out hands and grabbed my waist. Reluctantly, I placed my left hand his shoulder as a new song began. I fixated my eyes on the three buttons at the top of his tunic as we started to dance.

It was a full minute into the dance before he spoke again and the whole time, I could feel Yilba glaring daggers into my back.

“Why are you doing this, Mal?” He asked quietly.

“Haven’t I done enough to you already?” I whispered, my eyes flickering up to his. He sighed; a sigh I knew was directed at me.

“You haven’t done anything to me, Mal,” Murtagh replied. “Will you at least look me in the face?”

No. I would not. Not when guilt riddled my mind like the weeds back in Carvahall. I pressed my lips shut and waited for the end of the music piece, which didn’t come soon enough.

Once the song ended, instead of releasing me, Murtagh spun me around and started to lead me towards the open doors at the end of the ballroom.

“What are you doing!?!” I hissed quietly at him. He didn’t answer as I was steered past the guests, past Yilba and Tolme, and out onto the veranda. Once outside, away from most of the eyes, I yanked my body away from his grasp and stepped back.

“Look at me,” I turned my head and looked out into the garden in refusal. Eight months, several of which I believed he was dead, and I still can’t look at him. “Mal, please look at me.”

Stubbornness was my nature. Murtagh should know that by now. Hands seized my face and forced my head straight and up until I was looking directly into his face. My neck muscles strained as I tried to turn my face away from his.

“Mal, stop trying to turn away and listen to me.” He commanded that was one way to make me dig my heels in even farther. No sooner had my stubbornness reared its ugly head than lips pressed against mine.

Shock coursed through my entire body, stilling all of my movements as my mind tried to process what was happening. One moment I was trying my hardest to avoid looking at him, and the next he was kissing me… and I was kissing back. Pulling away, Murtagh stared into my eyes.

“Did you just kiss me to make me look at you?” I hissed him as I pulled away. Something burned in his eyes shortly before he pulled my face to his once more.

Our lips met once more, this time gentler and longer-lasting. Ûru’Baen left my mind, as did the stifling night of making small talk with simple-minded nobility. Thumbs caressed my cheekbones as our lips seemed to lock into that of a dance of their own.

“Do you think I’d kiss someone who I only tolerated, twice?” He whispered against my lips as a blush dusted my cheeks.

“Shut up,” I mumbled back, wanting to hide my face. Murtagh started laughing at me as a beautiful slow song started up. Murtagh’s hands left my face to grab my hand and waist. “You better not be planning on dragging me back to the dance floor.”

“I don’t plan on dragging you back in there,” Murtagh replied before shrugging. “Besides, you’re the one keeping those hot-blooded women off of me.”

“Oh, so you got to experience the scheming wenches of Ûru’baen?” I asked lightly with a smirk. Murtagh scowled at my smile, annoyed that I was enjoying his misery before he yanked me even closer. “Now what are you doing?”

“Giving them something to gossip about.” I huffed at him as my arm started to tingle. I wrinkled my nose and pressed my face into his tunic to hide my discomfort. How did he manage to still smell like the forest?

I took in a deep breath and let out a sigh, letting my forehead rest against his chest while I closed my eyes.

“Why is it that everyone is looking at you like they’ve seen a ghost?”

“Because they have,” I replied without opening my eyes. “My maids dressed me exactly like how my mother dressed the night before she fled the city. Considering that I am the spitting image of my mother, I might just have given them a shock of their life.”

“They’re not the only ones with a shock of a lifetime,” Murtagh muttered.

“My apologies, Dragon Rider, if I have offended you in the past, by dressing dully,” I replied sarcastically.

“That’s not what I meant, Mal.”

“Then what did you mean, O Mighty Dragon Rider?” I heard a groan from Murtagh before he started to pull me away from the ballroom. We walked silently through the gardens, heading in the direction of the stables.

“It is my understanding, that jewels, dresses, and whatever it is you woman put on your faces, is supposed to enhance your beauty, not make it.”

“Doesn’t mean that the capital females understand that notion,” I muttered, flashes of caked-on lip paint and badger eyes coming to mind. Murtagh grunted in agreement before pulling me to a stop and faced me.

“You’re beautiful Mal,” I blinked at him and opened my mouth to respond. “And not just because you are wearing beautiful clothes and gems.”

I shut my mouth, wordless.

“I thought you were beautiful long before we ever even reached Tronjheim.” Once again, a slight blush ran across my cheeks as I dipped my head towards the ground. “Demonic headwrap and all.”

“Don’t hate the headwrap!” I shot back. Murtagh laughed before reaching up and tucking some of my hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing against its pointed tip.

“I thought you were beautiful long before we ever even reached Tronjheim, but tonight,” He continued softly. “you look radiant.”


	35. Chapter Thirty-Two: Radiant

My face was completely red as we walked in the direction of Thorn's nest. The ball long forgotten, Murtagh pressed for more details about childhood, and what it was like growing up with Eragon.

"I am not quite sure how one simple boy could manage to get his entire shirt and pants soaked in mud and dirt," I explained to him, waving a hand. "Honestly, as soon as I washed his clothes, they were dirty again! How does one boy make such a mess!?!"

"He was a growing boy, Mal," Murtagh answered, mirth in his voice.

"That isn't an excuse to roll around in dirt and mud every chance he had!" I fired back. "Do you know how long it takes to scrub a mud-covered shirt clean!?! It takes hours!!!"

"So you spent your time doing his wash?" I shrugged.

"I spent my time doing all three of their laundries."

"You were playing mother hen?" Murtagh asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I was—" I cut myself off and considered his words. "Fine, yes, I was a mother hen. But what do you expect from a girl who lived with two boys and a man?"

"I expect you to have a mother like tendency," Murtagh replied as he opened the door to Thorn's nest. As we entered, Thorn's head rose into the air, and he lazily blinked at us. A puff of smoke rose from his nostrils.

"Little Elf." I looked up at Thorn with a smile. "You still didn't get enough sleep last night, neither have you eaten enough today."

"You're being dramatic Thorn; I am perfectly fine." Thorn huffed in discontent before turning his head to Murtagh.

"Murtagh, tell the little elf that she needs to eat and get more sleep, I can still sense that she is exhausted." I rolled my eyes at Thorn's comment to Murtagh.

"Mal, why haven't you been eating or sleeping?"

"Can you two leave this topic be? I said I am fine." Murtagh grabbed my face and forced me to look at him.

"Then why are you having difficulty sleeping?" I opened my mouth to respond before I quickly shut it again. I looked down and twisted my hands together.

"I haven't slept well since Tronjheim," I explained. "it's nothing new, and it certainly isn't going to go away anytime soon."

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Trying to push me away by being cold," Murtagh responded as he grasped my wrist and pulled me around, so I was facing him.

"I have reasons to, Murtagh," I replied quietly. "Have you taken into consideration what my father might think?"

"I don't particularly care about what your father thinks about our relationship." My eyes widened a fraction.

"You are an idiot then."

"Maybe," Murtagh said, shrugging his shoulders before smirking. "But I'm your idiot."

I let out a sigh and rubbed my forehead. He was acting like he had no concern whether or not my father would even approve of us talking together. He really was an idiot.

"You know, I'd thought the two of you would hate me when you found out who exactly I was." I finally said.

"You think I'd have kissed you if I hated you?" A loud rumbling noise shook the nest as a small jet of fire left Thorn's nose. We both turned to look at the dragon who was laughing at us in our minds.

"You bicker like an old married couple." Thorn rumbled as I realized that the sound had come from the young dragon. Murtagh shot his dragon a look as I slipped out of his grasp. It was late, and the more time I spent with Murtagh, the more I got sucked into a relationship that could end with broken hearts and bodies.

"Where do you think you're sneaking off to?"

"My room," I tossed over my shoulder. "This dress is killing me, and I'm tired."

Exiting the nest, I double-timed it back to the castle. I hadn't been lying, while the dress was beautiful, the corset was digging into my ribs, and the skirt felt like it weighed a hundred horses.

Entering the wing of the castle that my room resided, I scurried into my room and shut the door behind me before letting out a deep breath.

"Is everything alright, your highness?" Frida asked as she and Lydia hurried up to me.

"I officially want to suffocate most of the court with their own dresses," I responded tiredly as Lydia started to work on the laces of the corset.

"Well, I can't blame you," Lydia muttered behind me. The corset was released, allowing me to suck in a deep breath as the dress went slack. Frida held my hand as I stepped out of my shoes before hustling over to Lydia to help remove the enormous dress.

Once the gown was removed from my frame, Frida helped me into a thin-strapped nightgown before directing me to sit at my vanity. Lydia started to work on removing the kohl and lip paint, while Frida removed the jewelry.

My lips returned to their natural color while the brightness of my eyes dimmed. Frida removed the pins from my hair, causing it to fall against my bare back. Frida gave my hair a short brushing before moving to put the crown and jewelry away.

"Will that be all for tonight?" Lydia asked. I nodded at her.

"Yes, thank you," I replied before watching the two disappear through my bedroom door. I drummed my fingers on my vanity. It was late, I was tired, but the possibility of phantom pain occurring shrouded my room in a heavy fog. Maybe tonight will be different.

I am sincerely regretting my last statement. Maybe that statement is the reason I am in so much pain right now. I can barely think it hurt so much. I was curled up on my left side in a fetal position gripping my right shoulder. I had been sleeping peacefully when it had decided to act up.

I clenched my teeth together as another bolt of pain went down my arm and into my fingers. I bit back another shriek and squeezed my eyes together. Life hates me; it's official. I curled myself tighter and tried to take deep breaths like Master Oromis had taught me. A few stray tears leaked from my scrunched up eyes. Traitors.

"Mal?" My eyes shot open with panic.

"What are you doing here!?! Get out!" I squeaked out. I was in too much pain to do anything other than spit out a few words. "Get out! Just get out."

"Mal," Murtagh said, walking into my field of vision. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You idiot." I moaned out before tucking my chin into my chest and feeling my whole body shudder again.

"I can sense your pain from my room, what's going on? I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."

"You can't help me; no one can," I whispered.

"You're being negative." I fixed my eyes on Murtagh with an unwavering gaze.

"You want to know why I haven't been sleeping? This is why." I hissed out before another wave of pain had me whimpering. "I've been trying to get rid of it since Tronjheim, well nothing has worked!"

"Come here," My body was pulled from its fetal position and into a tight hold. I continued to shudder with pain for a few more minutes until, amazingly, my shoulder started to hurt less. I relaxed from my rigid position and took a deep breath of air. "Does this happen every night?"

"Most, they've been awful lately. I am so tired, but every time I try to sleep, my shoulder acts up. You can leave now."

"I already told you that I'm not going anywhere."

"You are infuriating," I mumbled before totally relaxing and closing my eyes. "And to think I almost forgot."

"Just try to go back to sleep,"

It had been a week since the ball, and since then, my father had been pressuring me to spend copious time with the green egg. It took all that I had to stop from snapping at him. The egg wouldn't hatch for me because another one already had.

Once again, I found myself in the egg chamber, sitting on a chair with the green egg in my lap. My fingers caressed the sparkling green shell absentmindedly as I stared off into space. It was only when I heard footfalls, did I pull away from my inner thoughts.

"We have located the white egg," An eerily familiar voice purred. My eyes narrowed as I stood up and gently placed the green egg back on its stand. Walking briskly to the chamber doors, I peered out to see one of the twins from Tronjheim talking with my father.

"And?" My father demanded.

"Only fragments were found, I believe the egg has hatched, your majesty." The breath left my chest as a slight panic set in.

"So, the second female has hatched, find her." My father said darkly. "The sooner we have a female. The sooner more eggs are created."

"It's a she?" I asked, feigning ignorance. The two glanced at me, my father seeming pleased that I had been with the green egg.

"Yes," My father said. "Both the white egg and the blue egg were the last of the females, to ensure the survival of dragons, it is imperative that the female's breed."

I bit my tongue at the relation of my dragon being a mere egg breeder.

"I am sure that you understand the importance of bringing the dragons to Ûru'Baen." The twin spoke, his words dripping with venom. "After all, the white dragon is only a newborn. She will need protection."

"Yes," I agreed, though not for the same reasons. "she does need protection. After all, there is nothing more precious than a dragon."

The twin smiled sickly at me while my father walked over to me.

"Your understanding of the situation is astounding, Khensamel," My father praised. "I am sure that even if the green egg doesn't hatch for you, another will."

"It is in my blood," I replied. "You wouldn't happen to know why the men of Ûru'Baen have suddenly taken an innate interest in me, would you?"

A smile appeared on his face.

"You are nineteen and unwed, my dear," My father said with his unsettling smile. "I only act as a concerned father."

"I have no interest in those airheaded twats that can't even hold an intellectual conversation," I said as I smoothed my skirts. "Perhaps I should get married, yes, but no to an idiotic halfwit with no sense of astuteness."

"A good point," He said with a gleam in his eye. "I shall debate this subject heavily; after all, only the best shall take your hand."

A chill ran across my skin as we stared each other down, neither of us wanting to be the first to break.

"My king," A voice said, breaking our eye contact.

"Stron, you have information?" My father asked, directing his attention to his advisor. Stron glanced at me.

"I will take my leave," I said briskly before striding away. Hurrying through the halls, I bypassed servants and nobility, not giving them a chance to greet or exchange pleasantries with me. 

I burst into my room and began to pace. If Saphira or Alethea ever fell into my father's hands, they would be reduced to hatching machines. All those eggs, in my father's hands. He'd be able to create an army of enslaved Dragon Riders.

It would be the end of the Varden. It would be the end for Alageasia. Now that my father knew that Alethea had hatched, it was even more critical to keep her away from Uru'Baen.

I held my right hand in front of me and opened my palm. The blank spot where my Dragon Rider mark lay, leered up at me. Since he was aware that Alethea had hatched, I no longer needed to keep her hidden from the world.

I folded my fingers in with a twisted smile on my lips. My father unknowingly just enabled another Dragon Rider to rain fire down upon his shoulders, and I would make sure he felt the sting from our flames.


	36. Chapter Thirty-Three: Radiant

Days passed since I had learned that Alethea’s egg fragments had been found. In those days, I had spent hours thinking about how Alethea and I could help the Varden now. I only had reservations on the fact that it would be best if my identity were kept hidden on the battlefield.

If I escaped Ûru’Baen and fought on the battlefield open-faced, there was a chance of someone recognizing me. If that happened, my father, himself might take Shruikan and fetch me from the battlefield himself.

If that happened, Alethea and I might not see the light of day ever again. After long hours of consideration, I came up with a plan that was easy enough to execute, but sure enough to hide my identity.

A scarf, wrapped around my mouth and nose, would help to hide my facial features. As long as no one pulled it down, no one would be able to distinguish exactly who I was. I would easily be mistaken for a full-blooded elf, so the chance of someone recognizing me was low.

That is at least. It wasn’t someone who knew me well enough. Most of the officials in the Varden had only seen me dressed in formal clothing, not that of a Dragon Rider or a soldier.

“Seems simple enough.” I murmured to myself before I placed my napkin back on the lunch tray Lydia had dropped off. “but has anything ever been simple in my life?”

No. It hadn’t.

I stood up and slunk over to one of my dressers. Surely I had some pants, somewhere. I riffled through skirts, undergarments, and shifts. I let out a growl.

“Your highness?” I looked from my search to see Lydia holding my finished lunch tray. “Is there something you are looking for specifically?”

“Pants, Lydia,” I said with a sigh. “I was taught a dance that increases flexibility and strength. My only problem is that it requires…”

“Pants?” Lydia answered with a smile. “I shall see what I can procure for you, just a minute, your highness.”

I stepped back from the dresser as Lydia disappeared from my room. Several minutes later, Lydia strode back into my room with a stack of clothes in her hands.

“I have been able to find a pair of cotton pants and a simple leather corset. It is nothing fancy but should provide you with maximum range of movement.”

“You are a blessing, Lydia,” I said as I took the clothes from her. “Thank you,”

“If you require anything else, just ring for us,” Lydia said, bowing her head before ducking out of my room. I set the clothes on my bed before pulling the slip-on dress I had worn throughout this morning.

Gleefully pulling on the pants, I secured them around my hips before I reached for the leather corset. It had no sleeves and a V-neck. I slipped the corset over my head and tightened the corset strings until the leather rested comfortably against my skin.

Once dressed in the pants and corset, I gathered my hair and twisted it into a tight bun before tying it off with a leather strap. Looking at myself in my full-length mirror, I twisted around, looking at my body and feeling just how much movement I now had, wearing pants.

With one last heavy breath, I headed out of my room and towards the garden. There was a grassy, open space large enough to practice the Rimgar. Standing with my boot covered feet shoulder-width apart, I lifted my hands above my head and took in a deep breath before bending down and pressing my palms into the dark green grass.

I let out another deep breath before moving my body in a slow, methodical way. My arms and legs fluidly moved from one position to the other as I stretched and forced my muscles to move with my movements.

A thin sheen of sweat accumulated on my body as the sun high in the sky began to dip to the horizon. I unfolded my body from its last position and gave my arms one final stretch over my head.

I heard the gossiping voices before I saw them. Yilba and her posse came giggling into view with Tolme trailing behind. Yilba’s doe-like eyes finally landed on me, her lip curled in distaste.

“Your highness,” Yilba greeted as her eyes ran over my pants and corset. “Good heavens, your highness, what on earth are you wearing.”

“Pants,” I replied, cocking my head slightly. “Surely you’ve seen them before?”

Tolme covered her mouth. I’m sure in an attempt to smother a laugh as Yilba turned slightly red.

“What is that movement called?” I heard Tolme ask. My eyes flickered to hers, and I smiled.

“It is called the Rimgar, or the Dance of Snake and Crane,” I explained. “Elves use it to remain flexible and strong.”

“And get sweaty in the process?” Yilba asked, raising an eyebrow.

“One doesn’t get flexible and strong sitting on their rear and eating tea cakes,” I replied with a small smirk. “I find it prudent to keep both my mind and my body strong.”

Yilba went to sneer but cut her facial expression off when a strong gust of air rippled through the garden. That’s when Thorn’s enormous body descended from the sky, his sparkling wings out to slow the rate of his decent.

Tilting my head back and covering my eyes from the bright sun, I watched with entertainment as the ruby dragon landed in the garden. Behind me, the ladies let out gasps and took several steps backward.

My eyes went to Murtagh as Thorn lumbled over to shove his massive head into my face. Both of them were silently laughing at the trembling ladies behind me. I reached out to stroke Thorn’s face when Yilba let out another gasp.

“You’re going to touch it!” She shrieked. I glanced back as her as my fingers glided across the scaled of Thorn’s face. Thorn rumbled his displeasure before pushing his head further into my touch.

“That wasn’t very nice to say, Lady Yilba,” I said as Murtagh slipped off of Thorn. He landed lightly on his feet as strode to where I stood, caressing his Dragon’s face. “He isn’t an incomprehensible animal. I would watch what you say. His hearing is quite excellent.”

At my words, Thorn peeled back his upper lip and showed his top layer of teeth to Yilba, causing the woman with her to let out a shriek and shrink back. Yilba went pale and stepped backward. I smirked before looking back up at Thorn.

“Handsome as ever, Thorn.” I cooed as my fingers brushed against a spot on his neck that I knew to be a spot Dragon’s liked to be itched. Flames danced out of his nostrils as he pressed into my fingers.

“You know,” I said in Thorn’s mind. “Their reactions to you were quite hilarious.”

A puff of smoke left Thorn’s nostrils as the Dragon chuckled.

“We know,” Murtagh finally spoke, with a grin. “it was quite entertaining.”

The fear from the ladies behind us quickly diminished in Murtagh’s presence. Yilba fanned her face as she took a couple of tentative steps towards us.

“Your Dragon is a magnificent sight, my lord,” Yilba said breathlessly. I snorted in time with Thorn as Murtagh gritted his teeth and gave Yilba a charming smile.

“Thank you, my lady,” He replied. “But my Dragon isn’t an unintelligible rock-lizard. You should direct your words to him.”

I looked at Yilba as she turned her eyes to Thorn. Her lip curled slightly as I continued to rub the side of his face and neck.

“He doesn’t bite,” I said in a sweet voice before cocking my head to the side briefly. “well, unless he is feeling peckish that is. Has he eaten Murtagh?”

Murtagh cough to hide his open laughter as Thorn gave Yilba a smile full of his razor-sharp teeth. Yilba paled as her ladies shrieked and huddled together. I glanced at Murtagh as I started to snicker.

“Yes,” Murtagh finally said as he got his laughter/coughing under control. “he has eaten. You need not fear is appetite.”

“Shame,” I muttered as I dropped my arm from the brilliant red scales.

“Care for a ride, your highness?” My eyes darted to Murtagh as he held out his hand. A ride? I would kill for a ride, and I am certain one of those empty-headed twits would do.

“If you aren’t busy, that would be lovely,” I said as I took his hand. Thorn lowered his belly to the floor as we walked towards the saddle. “it was a lovely chat, ladies.”

Yilba turned red in the face as she gripped the skirts of her dress. Behind her, Tolme watched at a distance, a genuine smile on her lips. Hmm, perhaps there is someone in this city that isn’t a complete airhead.

“Need help getting up?” Murtagh asked as he placed a hand on my lower back. I shot him a brief dirty look as his fingers brushed lower than respectable.

“I am quite capable, thank you.” I hissed at him, swatting the hand that was near my rear. With the grace of a Gazelle at the base of the Beor Mountains, I jumped up Thorn’s side and sat down on the saddle.

Murtagh sprung up Thorn’s side with the same skill and settled in behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist. Muscles bunched underneath my legs as Thorn crouched low before leaping into the air, flapping his wings.

Air streamed past my face as the Dragon rose higher and higher. Sighing, I rested my face on Thorn’s neck, closing my eyes as I wrapped my arms around his neck. Alethea’s absence, however necessary, was slowly eating away at my consciousness.

“Just how much riding did you do with Saphira?” Murtagh asked in my mind. I opened my eyes and began to shift in the saddle. I switched my legs, so I was sitting facing Murtagh.

“More than Eragon, that I can assure you,” I responded as I looked him in his eyes. “After we fled Carvahall with Brom, I didn’t feel safe on the ground, so Saphira let me ride her while Eragon rode Cadoc.”

“It still keeps you up, doesn’t it?” I pressed my lips into a firm line before giving him a small nod.

“At least when I’m with a dragon, my nightmares seem to stay away.” Thorn suddenly decided he wanted to do a nosedive. Letting out a gasp, I latched onto Murtagh, my fingers digging into the back of his tunic as the weightless feeling hit me. Seconds later, Thorn evened out as I groaned into Murtagh’s shirt.

“A little warning next time, please.” I moaned out as both Murtagh and Thorn laughed. Pulling backward, I glared at Murtagh as he laughed, my scowl only making him laugh harder. I punched him in the stomach and huffed. “It’s not that funny.”

Their laughter faded as Murtagh reached up, cupped the side of my face. We stared at each other as the wind whistled and hair flew about.

“What?” I finally asked him. Rather than answering me in words, Murtagh pressed his lips against mine. His hand moved as he dug his fingers into my hair, pulling my head backward to deepen our lip lock.

With fervor fueling our actions, we hungrily soaked in each other’s touch, knowing that it might be the last time we ever had contact. With Galbatorix holding our puppet strings, every day we had free was a blessing. When we separated from each other, Murtagh refused to let me go.

Thorn descended back towards the castle, using the air currents to coast down at a gentle glide. When he landed just outside his nest, I saw that both Lydia and Frida were waiting for me.

“Oh dear,” I muttered as Murtagh raised an eyebrow.

“Friends of yours?”

“My handmaids,” I corrected him. “They’ve probably been running around looking for me.”

Murtagh slid off Thorn and held his hands up to catch me, with a wrinkled nose, I slipped out of the saddle and landed in his hands. I muttered thanks before walking towards my two handmaids.

They took one look at my sweaty features and started rushing me towards my bathroom. I glanced back at Murtagh, not knowing that it would be three weeks before I would see him again.


	37. Chapter Thirty-Four: Radiant

Over the next few weeks, I hadn’t seen Murtagh. I spent the weeks in the library, searching for information that could provide useful for the Varden. My hand stung from long hours of scrawling neat and precise notes.

When I wasn’t researching war tactics, I was playing the perfect princess to the ladies of the court. While I had left a pristine image on the older generation, the young ladies of the court mostly sided with Yilba and had decided that I was a threat.

So here I was, gracefully sipping tea from a beautifully designed teacup trimmed in gold. My back was ramrod straight while I sat in the chair and listened to the idle chatter of the noblewoman.

Do they seriously sit around all day sipping tea and snacking on sweet cakes, gossiping together?

My brain had basically shut down, and my eyes glazed over as talk of lip paint and the latest dress design. My arms were on autopilot as I occasionally took a sip of tea.

“This isn’t your usual converse, is it?” My brain woke up at the soft-spoken words as I turned my head to my right. Tolme sat next to me, nervously playing with her teacup. I smiled and shook my head.

“No, it isn’t,” I replied before glancing at the gossiping woman. They were now fawning over Yilba’s gaudy necklace. I pursed my lips and shook my head. “I grew up on a farm with very little. I had no jewels or dresses to fawn over, nor did I have the time to.”

“What was it like?” Tolme asked. I looked at her and saw a genuine interest. I smiled at her before looking down at my teacup.

“It was hard, sometimes we worried about food lasting through the winter, but it was freeing. We were not bound by social status, not bound by duty. You married for love, not power and status.” I told her. “as long as we had enough to eat, we were free to do as we pleased.”

“Sounds lovely,” Tolme sighed dreamily. “to not have to worry about social status and finding a husband.”

“Why do you stay with someone so verbally degrading?” Tolme gave me a deer in the headlights look before her eyes darted towards Yilba.

“I—I know not what you speak of!” Tolme lied, stuttering over her words. “Yilba and I are such fond friends.”

“That’s not what it means to be a friend,” I said softly as I set my teacup down. “that’s called being cruel and unkind.”

Tolme bit her lip and clenched her fists as Yilba’s nasal laugh broke through the silence between Tolme and I. Exhausted by the sheer sound of her voice, I stood up and brushed my skirts free of any wrinkles.

“I am feeling slightly faint,” I announced vaguely. “Tolme, will you be a dear and escort me to the powder room?”

Tolme set her teacup down and obediently followed me out of the drawing-room. Once out of the stuffy room, I looped my arm with Tolme’s and started walking.

“Didn’t you say—”

“A perfect excuse to relieve myself from those gossiping nitwits,” I explained, patting her hand. “Now Tolme, explain to me why you let Yilba walk all over you?”

“Yilba has the power to ruin a girl’s reputation within seconds,” Tolme whispered, if my hearing were not enhanced, I wouldn’t have heard her.

“I thought as much,” I said as I came to a stop. “I take it she is also hindering your chances of securing a husband as well?”

Tolme heaved a heavy sigh.

“Her beauty is unrivaled, and her father is the advisor to the King. I can hardly compete.” Tolme told me.

“Well, that is your problem,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “You are a rabbit trying to compete among hyena’s.”

“What are hyenas?” Tolme asked in confusion.

“The bitches of the desert,” I muttered before shaking my head. “It matters not what they are, but what you need to become.”

“What I become?” Tolme asked. I nodded at her before taking her arm once again and started walking towards my room. Lydia and Frida were doing idle work in my room when Tolme and I entered.

“Your highness,” Frida and Lydia acknowledged.

“I am in need of your help,” I announced pulling Tolme over to my vanity and making her sit in the chair. Sitting in front of my vanity, Tolme stare at her face as my handmaids hurried over.

“Tolme, I won’t help you unless you want me to,” I told her, looking at her through the mirror. She twisted her hands together in her lap, pursing her lips.

“I want to be noticed,” She finally murmured before straitening her back. “I want to be noticed, and I want to be out of Yilba’s shadow.”

My lips formed a smile before I tugged at the pin holding her hair up.

“First things first,” I said as her muted red hair came undone. “why do you hide your red hair?”

“Yilba said that I look like an overripe tomato,” Tolme replied, dipping her head. “I started putting in a potion to make my hair look browner.”

“The first thing I want you to do,” I started, staring into Tolme’s blue eyes. “stop listening to what Yilba tells you.”

Tolme nodded at me as Frida came over with a bottle in her hand.

“This should remove any hair potion.” I grabbed one of the towels that sat next to the vanity and threw it over the mirror.

“Next time you see yourself, Tolme, I hope you realize that you don’t need lip paint and blush to look beautiful.”

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Lydia and Frida were currently working on Tolme as they had on me the night of the ball, at my insistence. Once they had removed the browning potion, Tolme’s beautiful, rich hair shone brightly under the lights of my room.

Frida brushed Tolme’s mane out until it lay flat against her back before she put it in a simple braid, letting a few strands of hair down to frame her heart-shaped face.

“So, let me get this straight,” I said, tapping my chin with a hand fan. “You fell in love with your brother’s best friend, and you are terrified that he doesn’t like you back…”

“Basically,” Tolme sighed. “It has to be the most cliché plot ever, but I really do love him. He has always said and does the kindest things and his smile, oh his smile can melt a thousand suns.”

“How long have you been pining for him?” I asked.

“I am not pining for him!” Tolme burst out as I raised an eyebrow. “I just, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Which leads us to the crux of this situation,” I commented. “Yilba always has to be center of attention.”

“Yes,” Tolme sighed as Frida pulled away.

“Thank you, Frida.”

“I will have the kitchens start your dinner, your highness,” Frida said before she and Lydia scurried out. Reaching up, I pulled the towel from the mirror, showing Tolme what a little makeup and true hair color could do for her look.

Tolme burst into tears, quickly grabbing a handkerchief, I dabbed at her eyes, so the light kohl applied wouldn’t run.

“Sorry,” Tolme whispered as she sniffed. “I just, I haven’t felt this pretty in a long time.”

“Up you get, your brother is picking you up at any moment,” I said, tugging her arm. Tolme rose from her seat, and arm in arm, we left my room and strode towards the castle gates. The closer we got to the gates, the more tense Tolme got.

“Relax, Tolme,” I murmured at her as the high-pitched giggles reached our ears. “This isn’t all for naught, just be yourself.”

We entered the drawing-room adjacent to the gates just as Yilba gave out a nasal bray. I looked at Tolme with a raised eyebrow.

“You get used to it,” She whispered with a small smile.

“I’m sure,” I said before we walked up to the group of women. Yilba’s eyes fell on us and widened as they focused on Tolme.

“What have you done with your hair?” Yilba exclaimed, bring a hand up to her mouth. Tolme ran a light hand over her braid and smiled.

“I thought I could do with a change,” She replied with a charming smile.

“Doesn’t it just sparkle underneath the light?” I gushed, patting Tolme’s hair. “Oh, I do find myself jealous of the sheen!”

With those words, the ladies started to gush over Tolme’s natural hair color. Yilba, on the other hand, sat on the couch with a sour expression. I quietly walked over, so I stood next to her.

“She looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” I asked in an eerily, calm voice. Yilba stiffened before looking up at me with burning eyes. I turned my head and looked her in the eye. “If you ever talk down to her again, you will find yourself choking on your speech.”

AKA. I will cut your tongue out and feed it to you.

Yilba let out a gasp as my icy words and went utterly white while I smiled coldly at her.

“Are we clear?” I asked, pleasantly. Yilba nodded quickly. Smiling triumphantly, I looked up to see a dashing young man looking around the drawing-room. I glided over to Tolme and took her elbow. “Tolme, dear, I think your ride has arrived.”

“Oh!” Tolme said, her head popping up to the doorway. Instantly her face went red, and she squeaked.

“Come now, dear,” I said as I started dragging her over to the young man. We walked up to him.

“Excuse me, your highness, fair maiden,” He said, bowing his head. “I have been sent to collect Miss Tolme, as her brother was unable to make it.”

“Wonderful,” I said brightly before turning to Tolme. “I believe this is the women you were looking for?”

His eyes went to Tolme, who blushed a deep red.

“Tolme!?!” He exclaimed in surprise. “I hardly recognized you!”

“Her highness convinced me to return it to its normal color.” Tolme murmured as she ducked her head.

“For that, you have my eternal thanks,” He said. “I have longed for the day I would see her fiery mane once more.”

“You liked my hair?” Tolme whispered, a bewildered look crossing her face. “But I thought—”

“I hope you visit soon, Tolme,” I announced. “I greatly enjoyed your company.”

The man extended his arm to Tolme.

“My lady,” Blushing, Tolme placed her arm on his, and the two walked out of the drawing-room. With a smile on my face, I watched as the two climbed into a carriage and disappeared. Maybe something good did come from this cursed tea party. Turning back around, I smiled at the ladies.

“Ladies, may I tempt you with one final cup of tea before you depart?”

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A week passed since the tea party, and I found that Yilba had taken my warning to heart. When I saw the two in the castle, Tolme didn’t seem to be hiding in Yilba’s shadow. Despite the happiness I felt from helping Tolme, I was slowly feeling claustrophobic and trapped.

The castle was a prison I could not yet escape from. I was slowly suffocating from the politics, hate, and cruelty that seemed to ooze from the very walls that supported the castle. I took to even more reading to try and drown out the misery.

“Is that all for tonight?” I glanced up at Frida, who stood at the edge of my bed with my dinner tray in hand. I nodded at her and smiled.

“Yes, I will see you in the morning, goodnight.”

“Sleep well, your highness,” Frida said before she disappeared through my bedroom door. I placed my quill back in its place before standing up and stretching my neck. It was late, but sleep didn’t feel comforting at the moment.

I went to the small bookcase and pulled a book from the shelf. A bit of reading might put me in the mood for sleeping, that is if I could get this blasted suffocating feeling gone.

I did a little light reading until I was having a hard time concentrating. I was too tired to keep this up. I set the book on the nightstand and turned off the light orb. I wiggled underneath the covers and stared at the ceiling, how was I going to make the time pass this time?

Right then a loud crack of thunder went over the palace and made my room shudder. Rain. I slipped out of my bed and walked to the door to my balcony. Sheets of rain came down while thunder cracked and lightning flashed.

My hand went to the handle on the door, and I pushed the door open. Rain immediately started to pelt my body as I stepped out.


	38. Chapter Thirty-Five: Radiant

Wrapping my arms around myself, I stood on the balcony as my nightgown quickly got sopping wet with ice-cold water. I started to shiver as the temperature dropped several degrees. I am tired. Tired of keeping secrets. Tired of hiding what I truly am. Tired of hiding Alethea away from the skies.

I clenched my fingers through my hair and let out a frustrated scream. The windows of the building behind me cracked as some of my magic slipped out. Why. Why did the world have to be this cruel?

Thunder drowned out my continued frustrated scream. I clamped my mouth shut and stared up at the night sky, occasionally being lit by lightning.

“I hate this place,” I whispered to myself as I dug my fingers into my sides. “I hate this place. I hate this place. I hate this place.”

Repeating the words like they would magically transport me to another place. A faraway place. One that would make me forget that I had ever stepped foot in this city. Salty tears mixed with raindrops.

Is crying a sign of weakness? Or a show of compassion?

I found my world spinning as I went from a rain-soaked world to one of glow orbs and cold stone. When the world stopped spinning, an arm was wrapped around my rain-soaked body as a hand gently pressed my head into the soft linen of a shirt.

“What has possessed you to stand out in a thunderstorm!?!” Murtagh shouted, hoarsely at me. “Do you want to get sick!?!”

I was shivering against his chest. The cold rain already soaked into my bones and cooling my body temperature. My lips trembled as I tried to stop the tears that had previously been rolling down my face. I no longer had rain to hide the salty liquid.

My body would not stop shaking, whether it was from the cold bite of the rain, or my slight meltdown minutes prior.

“Mal?” I looked up at Murtagh. 

“I hate this place.” I whimpered. “I hate this place so much.”

“Tell me how I can help you, Mal?” He asked me gently.

“I need to forget,” I said as water from my hair rolled down my face and dripped onto the floor. “I need to forget.”

“There’s no going back from that” He replied quietly as his hand moving to cup my face. His thumb ran across my cheekbone.

“Make me forget, Murtagh,” I whispered. “Please, make me forget this horrible place.”

Seconds after uttering my last words, Murtagh pressed his lips to mine. Murtagh’s touch burned red hot compared to the wet chill of my drenched skin, and I welcomed it. My fingers, which had been hanging limp at my side, reached up and dug into his shirt.

I needed contact. I needed warmth. I needed him. And he gave himself to me.

His lips burned hot against my cold ones as we both hungrily, desperately, searching for some sort of distraction from this desolate castle. We would only find that answer in each other’s arms.

I breathed heavily as his burning touch left my lips and slowly started to make its way down the column of my neck. My fingers trailed up his neck to bury themselves in his wild brown hair.

A moan escaped my lips as an unfamiliar sensation burst from my neck. Desire, unlike anything I have ever felt rushed through my body. I found myself migrating backward until calloused hands gripped my nightgown and ripped it from my body.

It was instant relief from the cold and wet material that clung to my clammy skin. I fell backward onto my bed as Murtagh pulled his shirt off and hovered over me, tanned arms pressing the spaces beside my head.

Reaching up, I grabbed his head and dragged his lips back to mine. Our kisses were fueled by desperation, filled with need, and presented with passion.

My hands slid down his neck, brushing against the pulsating veins in his throat. I groaned as my back arched as fingers skimmed across my side and to my back.

How could his touch burn so hot yet feel so good? I inhaled deeply, sucking in the air my lungs needed as flaming lips pressed against my throat once again. Teeth scraped my skin, prompting my nails to dig into his back. His burning mixed with my icy cold as we let ourselves, for one night, escape.

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My eyelids flickered as something brushed gently across my cheek. I wanted to raise a hand and smack the object away. It was distracting me from my peaceful sleep. I jerked awake, clutching the silk sheet to my bare chest as my heart thudded in my chest.

I never had a peaceful sleep. 

My eyes flickered around the room until they rested on Murtagh, who was sitting on the edge of my bed right next to me. He was fully dressed, and that included armor and his blood-red sword.

“I have to head out,” He said quietly. I knew that he would eventually have to leave to fight against the Varden. “I didn’t want to leave without telling you.”

I opened my mouth to respond before pressing my lips together and taking one of his leather-wrapped hands.

“So soon?” I whispered as the arm holding the sheet to my chest tightened. It seemed that he was spending less and less time in Ûru’Baen, and more time fighting the war. Murtagh brushed his lips against the back my hand.

“I have orders, and I need to follow them.”

“I know,” I replied softly. “I know you have to, but promise me one thing though.”

Murtagh lifted his other hand and brushed several strands of hair behind my ear as I stared into his beautiful grey eyes.

“I can’t promise--“

“Stay safe,” I interrupted him. “both of you, that’s all I want. That’s all I want.”

Murtagh let out a breath of air before he grabbed my cheek and pressed his lips against mine. His kisses no longer burned, but the desire for more still clung to my consciousness. Our lips pulled away from each other reluctantly as Murtagh slid off my bed and walked to the door of my room. With one last look, he was gone.

I remained in bed; my thoughts troubled me. Eragon and Murtagh, eventually they would have to have a true fight. Brother on brother. There was no mistaking it. If I could predict anything my father would do, it would be to pit the brother against each other.

The once had traveled as friends. They had shared meals together. Fought together. Killed together. I dropped my head into my hands. It was inevitable that I knew.

“Your highness?” I heard Lydia ask before she poked her head into the room. “Are you awake?”

Lydia tentatively stepped into the room. She stopped when her eyes caught the cracks running up the windows and puddles on the floor, and eventually, my shredded nightgown that still lay on the floor.

“Oh my!” Lydia gasped. “Frida!”

Frida came bustling into the room with a broom in hand, prepared to hit whoever they thought was in the room.

“You had me thinking someone broke into her highness’s room!” Frida huffed.

“Well, I was a little emotional last night and left the doors open to my balcony during the storm,” I explained as the two began to tidy up, my fingers still clutching the bedsheet.

“You could have gotten sick!” Lydia scolded me.

“I know,” I replied sheepishly. “I was reminded of that fact when Murtagh pulled me inside.”

“Hmph,” Lydia grumbled. “Seems like he has some common sense, but could he at least use the buttons!?!”

I glanced at Lydia in confusion before my face turned bright red. She was holding up my shredded nightgown. I buried my head in my hands once more in embarrassment.

“Not to worry, your highness,” Frida said as she grabbed a robe from one of the drawers and walked over to me. “We’ve seen the whole gamut of promiscuous activities in this castle. You needn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed. We know how hard this has been on you.”

“Thank you, Frida,” I said, genuinely meaning my words. Frida stood at the edge of the bed and waited as I began to get out of the bed. Immediately I winced in pain as soreness became apparent. Looking down, I saw that there was dried blood on the inside of my leg. “Oh,”

I stared at my leg before my head snapped to the bed, the sheets were still all over the place, but I knew that if removed, there would be a red stain somewhere.

“Come now, your highness,” Frida cooed, wrapping the robe around my shoulders. “Easy does it. Lydia, draw a bath.”

Lydia stopped what she was doing and hurried into the bathroom as I fully stood up on shaky legs.

“Well, you certainly have held onto your womanhood far longer than anyone in the city, your highness,” Frida said as she guided me to the bathroom. “Girls these days are so open and willing it is a disgrace.”

“I just needed to...” I whispered as I made my aching body move. “I needed to forget.”

“I don’t blame you, your highness,” Frida said as she rubbed my back in a motherly way. “May I give you a piece of advice?”

“I think I could use some right about now,” I replied quietly as Lydia fluttered around the bathroom, pouring different oils and potions into the water.

“You’ve found a gentleman that seems to care about you, not to mention hopelessly in love with you,” Frida told me. “don’t let him go.”

I clutched at the robe as Lydia excused herself, leaving Frida and me in the bathroom. I stared at Frida for a moment before giving her a genuine smiling.

“I think I’m just as hopelessly in love with him too.”

“Rest your body in your bath; the oils and potions should help with any residual pain. I will go to help Lydia with your breakfast.” Frida replied before turning to leave.

“Frida?” I asked the woman turned to me. “I couldn’t have asked for better handmaidens, so when I say thank you, I do mean it.”

“It’s our pleasure to serve you,” Frida replied, giving me a genuine smile before hustling out and shutting the door. I dropped my eyes from the door before padding to the full-length mirror. I stood in front of the mirror and let the robe drop.

I held back a gasp as I stared at my body. He hadn’t been rough, or at least it hadn’t felt rough, but my body was covered in bruises. I’m not sure if the marks on my neck, shoulders, and chest counted as bruises but the ones on my hips were. Either way, I don’t regret anything.

For once, I had found peace in this castle. It just happened to be in the arms of another. He kept the nightmares at bay, which was more than I could have asked for. I didn’t know where we go from here.

“Figure that out later, Mal.” I murmured to myself. “You’re too sore to think of anything right now.”

Carefully, I stepped into the hot water and let my body slowly lower into the steaming water. A sigh escaped my lips as I started to feel better. Having spell weavers enchant oils and potions for you at beck and call must be nice.

I leaned my head back and rested it on the edge of the tub. Last night I let myself get lost. This morning I had to face reality once more.

I sat in the water until it cooled before attempting to move again. Carefully, I pushed myself up and stepped out the tub, surprised that I actually felt fine. I grabbed a robe and wrapped it around my body before leaving the bathroom.

My bed was already stripped of the old sheets and remade. The mess from last night’s escapades on my veranda was cleaned up. On my bed was the dress for the day. I frowned. It looked rather formal.

“The King insisted that you meet with the court suitors,” Lydia said as she walked in carrying a tray full of fruit.

“Why do I get the feeling that this means I am going to have to deal with a bunch of twats?” I asked myself as I seated myself at my small table.

“Because you are,” Lydia commented as she placed the tray in front of me.

“I had a hard enough time dealing with them at the ball, why must I suffer through more of their self-indulgent antics and lewd glances?” I growled as I picked up a grape and rotated it in my fingers.

“You have to because the King asked you to.”

“Yes,” I drawled out slowly. “Though I suppose when the King asks something of you, he isn’t asking, is he.”

Neither Lydia nor Frida replied as I continued to eat my breakfast. As I picked as the fruit and bread, I watched them scurry around my room, bringing out clothing and accessories for the day.


	39. Chapter Thirty-Six: Radiant

My shoulders itched as I sat with a pleasant smile. Unfortunately, my shoulder wasn't the only distraction. A soreness between my legs made it uncomfortable to sit proper, and the corset dug into the bruises on my hips.

I was sore in places that shouldn't be sore. Why did I have to meet these blasted suitors today?

As I shifted for what had to be the hundredth time in ten minutes, a maid came over with tea. Relived from the constant drone of the suitor next to me, I poured myself a cup and swirled in a drop of honey.

I took a sip, breathing in the herbal brew. I let out a deep breath and looked back up at the suitor. I think he has had long enough to talk about his accomplishments. If that was his tactic for wooing me, it was failing.

I no interest in men who were only concerned with themselves. No, what came to mind was selflessness. A well-educated mind. Swift on his feet. Intense--

"Grey eyes." I murmured out loud.

"Pardon, your highness?" I drew back from my inner thoughts and shook my head.

"Apologies, my mind went elsewhere for a moment," I said with a small smile. "My mind has been consumed by the battle, as of late."

"Oh, you needn't worry about the war, your highness," The nobleman drawled out. "The Varden scum have no chance of beating your father."

"Hmm," I sounded before taking another sip of tea. If only the nobleman knew just how wrong he was. The noble kept prattling on about his money and jewels while my mind went to Eragon. I hope that he and Saphira were alright.

I set my teacup down and stood up. I had had enough.

"As rich as you sound," I stated. "You are a self-entitled bore with no sense of morality. I would never marry you, not even for all the gold in the world."

His mouth flopped open as I strode from the room. I headed for the throne room. If my father thought I would ever marry any of those boorish self-entitled men, he was wrong. I'd instead run my sword through my heart.

I stormed into the throne room, my hands in fists, and my eyes narrowed. Advisors and noblemen scrambled to get out of my way as I stalked towards the throne.

"You can't honestly think," I seethed. "That I will ever marry one of those imbeciles!"

My father raised an eyebrow.

"Stron advised that those suitors have good blood—"

"They can't even tell their arse from their head!" I hissed, causing several men to cough. "What? Do they shit gold or something!?! Is that why you want me to marry one of them!?!"

The advisor standing next to my father turned red at my words. Most likely an effort to hold in laughter.

"Perhaps her highness is right," An advisor said, striding forward. "Maybe she should marry someone with a promise of a Dragon Rider? Maybe the boy himself?"

I blinked at the advisor's words, holding back the emotions that wanted to flow through my body. My father put his hand to his trimmed beard.

"Yes, a marriage between her and the boy would certainly provide a better chance, wouldn't it?"

"Am I supposed to do something?" I asked, narrowing my eyes on my father. He smiled at me before striding towards me and placing a hand on my shoulder.

"All in due time, dear." He told me before striding off. I stood in the throne room with a fuming look before I spun around and stalked out of the chamber. Gracefully stomping back to my room, I slammed the door behind me and began to pace.

He wanted me to marry, but a nagging feeling told me he wanted something else. What did he mean by a promise of a Dragon Rider? He wanted me to marry someone that the green egg would hatch for?

I let out a growl and dug my fingers into my scalp. All this talk of marriage, and here I was pining after Murtagh.

"Your highness?" I looked at the door to see Lydia peeking her head into my room. "I heard you slam your door…"

"The suitors turned out to be imbeciles," I explained with a sigh before flopping myself into a chair. "I am tired of conversations that provide absolutely no stimulus."

"That bad?" Lydia asked. I nodded.

"They are trying to win my favor by throwing out how much influence and money they have."

"But that is not the way to your heart, is it?"

"No, it isn't." I sighed again.

"Your heart has already been taken, your highness," Lydia said quietly. "no matter who tries to win your favor, your love has already been claimed."

I looked up at Lydia and shook my head.

"I don't even know what love is, how do I know if someone has stolen my heart?" Lydia smiled at me and said no more.

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Days passed, and there was still no sign of Murtagh. Whatever fight he'd been sent to must be a long and bloody one. I found myself aimlessly wandering the halls and library. When I was not left to my own devices, I hosted tea parties with the court ladies.

My only real friend of the bunch being Tolme, both of us spent most of the time talking about our childhood experiences and memories.

"Your highness?" I blinked rapidly and looked at Tolme. "Are you alright? You've been spacing out several times today."

"My apologies, I'm finding myself consumed with a problem I don't know how to handle."

"Really?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "And here I thought you were all-knowing."

I sent Tolme a scathing look before huffing.

"Not all-knowing, well-read." I corrected her as my fingers played with my empty teacup. "Anyone who is claiming to be all-knowing is a liar."

"Well, that makes a liar out of several women I know." Tolme mused before taking a sip from her teacup.

"That doesn't surprise me," I sighed out.

"Your highness," Tome asked, I looked up at her. "The word amongst the ladies of the court is that your getting married. Is there any truth to it?"

"Partially," I answered. "My father is searching for a suitor, yes. But I refuse to marry anyone that can't provide me with some mental stimuli."

"I take it that most the suitors in Ûru'Baen are out then?" Tolme said with a raised eyebrow.

"I get a better conversation from my horse than I do from the suitors," I grumbled. Tolme snorted on the sip of tea she had taken. I handed her a handkerchief which she accepted and dabbed at her mouth.

"Truly! The horrors our ears face when one of them starts talking about their wealth." Tolme giggled.

"Speaking of suitors, how is yours?" I asked as I grabbed a slice of fruit and bit into it. Tolme blushed.

"Father has taken the initiative and started talking with Henri's father." Tolme murmured. "He has allowed us to start courting."

"Do I hear wedding vows in the future?" I purred with a coy smile. "If so, I want to be the godmother of your children."

"Khensamel!!!" Tolme burst out, her face going completely red. I laughed at her facial expression.

"Only jesting," My face sobered up. "But in all seriousness, how are you doing?"

"Quite well, Henri and I have taken the time to catch up with each other," Tolme answered, placing her teacup on the table separating us. "I've naught realized just how much I have missed his company."

"You'll have the rest of your life to enjoy it as far as I'm concerned." Tolme's eyes sparkled with happiness.

"Speaking of the rest of my life, what is going on between you and the Dragon Rider?"

"I think I would like to know that myself," I mumbled back before sighing. "To be truthful, the two of us met far before we came to Ûru'Baen. Our relationship was interesting but not complicated."

"Do you love him?"

"Love him?" I asked, thinking about it. "I'm not sure I know what it means to be in love, or what it means to be loved."

I shook my head before standing up and brushing my skirt clean.

"Lydia, has Miss Tolme's carriage arrived?"

"Miss Tolme's carriage has arrived, but a wheel spindle has broken," Lydia replied, bowing her head. "The stable hands are currently fixing it and will have it returned to proper use by sunset."

I looked out the window. We had an hour, maybe two before the sun would disappear on the horizon.

"Have the kitchen prepare another meal for Miss Tolme. She shall dine with me tonight."

"Of course," Lydia replied before scurrying out of the room.

"I guess I am eating dinner with you?" Tolme asked with a smile. "What a luxury, Yilba might just die of jealousy."

"For that, I pray."

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My senses were telling me that I wasn't alone in my bedroom. I was lying on my stomach with my hands underneath my pillow, sleeping, when my body went on full alert. Keeping my eyes closed, I sought out the knife I kept hidden at the head of my bed.

With my fingers wrapped around the hilt of my knife, I waited until I felt the presence close enough. Using my right leg, I flipped around, snapping my leg against the intruder. He fell onto my bed as I twisted and straddled his waist, holding the knife at his neck.

"I suppose I should have seen that coming." Murtagh grinned at me as I straddled his torso. "but I must admit, you are in quite an attractive position."

"You know," I said as I brought my lips down to his ear. "sooner or later, my knife will hit its mark."

Fingertips glided up my thigh as grey eyes stared into mine. Pulling the knife away from Murtagh's neck, I reached over and placed my blade on the nightstand.

"I have to make sure I remember that next time I try to join you."

"Presumptuous of you to assume that I want you in my bed." Murtagh's lips twitched into a half-smile before one of his hands reached up to drag my lips to his. Our lips met, and all thoughts of the suitors disappeared from my thoughts.

Our hands dug into each other's bodies as our lips tangled together in hunger. Now I understand why the woman of Carvahal said that if you went long enough without intimate touch, you'd feel starved. I was starving, and Murtagh's firey embrace was the only relief.

Wrapping an arm around my back, Murtagh rolled our bodies, so he was on top. Palms pressed my wrists against my mattress.

"That's not fair," I moaned at him as he began to kiss and nip at my neck. "What if I want to touch you!?!"

"You'll just have to wait," He replied against the delicate skin of my neck before biting down. My body writhed against the bedsheets as shockwaves traveled throughout my body. The sensation was so pleasurable it border-lined painful, leaving me in a whimpering mess.

No matter how much I wiggled underneath him, he would not let me up. No matter how much I twisted my wrists under his hold, his hands were like steel vices. Murtagh liked to dominate. I had no issues with that.

I just wanted to feel him under my hands, was that too much to ask for? Apparently so.

I wanted to feel his muscles, run my fingers over the accumulation of scars on his body, feel the comforting warmth his body provided mine.

My wrists were finally released, and my first instinct was to bury my fingers in his hair as Murtagh's mouth dipped below my neck.

"Frida wanted me to relay a message to you," I gasped out. Murtagh lifted his head to look at me in confusion, I smirked at him. "This time, use the buttons."


	40. Chapter Thirty-Seven: Radiant

Fingers lightly traced my spine as I lay curled up on Murtagh's chest. Sweaty and exhausted, all I could do was sprawl out on his chest like a limp noodle, trying to catch my breath.

"Did you see him?" I finally asked, tilting my head to look up at Murtagh's face. Murtagh sighed and brushed his thumb across my flushed cheek.

"We saw each other, yes. But we didn't get close enough to talk…"

"…or fight." I finished, knowing that the two of them would have butt heads. Murtagh sighed before pressing his lips to the top of my head.

"It's going to happen eventually."

"Idiotic brotherly fights," I grumbled before sighing. "at this point, I know that it will. I don't like it. Do you think he ever truly loved my mother?"

"Your father?" Murtagh questioned. "Maybe once, but whatever love he had was forgotten."

"It only mattered what she could do or give to him," I muttered as I tapped my fingers against his bare chest. "No wonder she is so…"

"So what?"

"So broken," I replied, thinking of my mother. "My mother truly loved him, and I think he managed to twist her mind and heart to the point that he broke it."

"What exactly did he want from her?" A twisted smile crossed my lips.

"He wanted the same thing that he has always wanted," I responded bitterly. "Dragon Rider's. That's the only reason why I exist, but now that the green egg won't hatch for me, he wants to pass me off to the nearest noble and hunt down the other dragon so she can mate with Thorn and produce more dragon eggs."

Distant thunder boomed outside the stone walls as lightning lit up the sky through the door and windows of my veranda.

"War is coming," I murmured.

"War's already started, Mal. We're in the middle of it." Murtagh said gently. I laughed as I shook my head.

"No, Murtagh," I said as my lips curved. I knew exactly what I needed to do now. "the war has yet to begin."

Day's went by as I slowly formulated a plan in my head. With Murtagh visiting my bed more regularly, and not just for us to dance beneath the sheets, I was getting more sleep than I had in the past few months.

That gave me more energy to continue the Rimgar and my studies. For my plans to work, I had to have my body and mind at peak performance. My hands were cramping from the hours of writing, and my muscles burned and ached from time spent outside practicing.

I was lucky that my father seemed more concerned with Eragon's whereabouts and the location of my dragon than what I was doing within his walls. His mistake.

It was one night that my maids finally noticed my hands. Both Frida and Lydia gasped and grabbed at my hands, sending my fork clattering to my plate.

"My lady!" Frida gasped, clutching at my hands and spreading out my red, puffy and blistered fingers. "Whatever have you done to your hands!?!"

"I've just been practicing." I defended myself as Lydia scurried into my bathroom. Sounds of water running and bottles rattling around reached my ears before Lydia hustled over to the table with a bucket full of water.

"Practicing what!?!" Frida exclaimed as she forced my hands into the water. A scent wafted up from the bucket, indicating that something had been mixed in with the water. The open blisters on my fingers stung.

"And here I thought you were sensible enough to know when to stop!" Lydia scolded me as she pulled a towel from one of my chests. Tingling replaced the pain in my fingers shortly before I lost all feeling. I scowled up at my maids.

"Is this necessary!?!" I demanded as Frida brought my numb hands out of the water. Lydia began to pat my hands dry with the towel, both of them ignoring the scowl stretched across my face.

"It is our duty to take care of you, your highness." Frida responded in a stern voice. "especially when you have forgotten to do so yourself."

I huffed in response as a cloth was slowly wrapped around each finger. Soon, both of my hands were covered in white. I raised them in front of me and sighed. I wouldn't be writing until my hands healed enough that Lydia and Frida no longer felt the need to mummify my fingers.

I glared at my fork as I clumsily picked it up from where it had clattered against the porcelain plate. It was quite hard to be both elegant and practical with mummified fingers. I aggressively stabbed a piece of cut vegetable before shoving it into my mouth.

I could still do some of the Rimgar with my hands wrapped so. But as for my research, I would have to find another way to record the information. I had seen a couple of servants fluttering around the library. Maybe I could get some of them to collect information for me.

I finished dinner a half-hour later, spending most of the time fumbling around with the silverware in my fingers. Tomorrow was research day so first thing in the morning, I would set out for the library and find someone who could act as a scribe for me.

I had found a scholar that was eager to scribe down what I wanted from the scrolls I had collected on the history of Ûru'Baen. While he wrote the main points down on parchment, I read through another scripture that described a particular battle that had to do with the walls.

My intention?

Find about the weak points and what they did with them. Any information that could provide an insight to break into the city would prove useful in my endeavor. My fingers brushed against the aging scroll in front of me. My eyes ran over a particular story of the creation of a door to the castle.

The castle of Ûru'Baen provided miles of tunnels and passages that would make a challenge if one was not familiar with the network.

"Giles?" I spoke up, looking at the scholar hunched over a piece of parchment. The scholar looked up at me with his glasses nestled against the crook of his nose.

"Yes, your highness?"

"Are there any maps of the tunnel system?" I asked him. "This scroll mentions that hundreds of passages were built, but I wondered how anyone kept themselves from getting lost."

"Of course, your highness," Giles replied. "When the humans moved into Ûru'Baen, the system of tunnels were mapped out using magic. You can find them in tucked away in a glass case by the scrolls on healing potions."

Right where no one would think to look for them. I mused to myself before glancing at the section of the library that contained the scrolls on healing potions. Standing up, I strode over to the potions section of the library.

Sitting inconspicuously, sat a case with a glass top. Beneath the crystal glass sat several large parchments, they looked old and frayed but well cared for. My fingers slid against the glass top before they found the brushed copper latches.

With a soft click, the glass top was released from the latches, giving me access to the very papers I knew would prove to be invaluable. With a delicate touch, I picked up the first parchment and inspected its contents. 

It was of several interlocking tunnels that ran near the servant's passages. Not entirely useful but in the event, the Varden found themselves in the walls of the castle, perhaps useful. Pulling the parchment towards me, I looked at what was underneath.

My eye's scanning over faded lines as I quickly assessed whether or not I should give this sheet any attention. It only covered the passages near the stables, now Thorn's nest.

"Probably want to avoid that area," I muttered to myself before I pulled the sheet back and looked at the next map. Now, this is precisely what I needed. Removing the parchment from the pile, I quickly folded the parchment until it was roughly the size of my palm and shoved it into my corset.

No one would think that I'd be smuggling something, now would they? After all, I was just a princess. Why would I need information on a portcullis fixed nearly a century ago?

Shutting the glass top, I quietly returned to my previous reading, not giving the scholar any suspicion that I had taken something from the case. The rest of the day passed by, and I soon found myself dressed in burgundy trimmed with gold.

Tonight, there was a banquet to be held, and that included my father's advisors and a few of the noblemen that were associated with the current battles. I sat ramrod straight with my bandaged hands folded neatly in my lap.

Servants began to flood into the room with trays of freshly cut vegetables, meats, cheeses, and dipping sauces. One was placed in front of me, and I was glad to find that my plate lacked the meat part of the first course.

Reaching up, I clutched at my sliver fork and stabbed a slice of radish, before dunking half of the vegetable in one of the sauces on my plate. I had found that while the nobility Ûru'Baen seemed to eat luxury meals for every time they ate, the dishes were excellent.

I placed the radish in my mouth and found that the sauce tasted of flavors like fresh citrus and herbs.

"Your highness, whatever has happened to your beautiful fingers!?!" One of the advisors exclaimed. I glanced down at the fingers gripping my fork and smiled.

"It seems that the Royal Library was far too much for me to resist, and I have caused injury to myself in my endeavor to learn all that I can."

"You find it prudent for a woman to study?" Another asked his lip curling slightly. My eyes darkened.

"Of course," I replied coolly, raising an eyebrow. "As much as you humans seem to think that young woman does not need education, it is my belief that a woman uneducated provides the dullest conversations. Wouldn't you rather have a conversation with a woman who knows her history than one who doesn't know what one plus one equals?"

One of the other advisors coughed to hide his laugh as the advisor who asked the question turned slightly red and suddenly found the plate in front of him very interesting.

"I thought as much," I continued. "where I was raised, I lacked the resources to learn. But now that I have just about every book and scroll, I could ever want, I find it hard to stop writing, even when my blood flows onto the very parchment I write upon."

Next, to me, my father started to clap his hands. The chatter concerning my words and actions ceased.

"I expected nothing less from my daughter," My father laughed as he clapped his hands together. "Quick with wit and silver-tongued!"

Leaning back in a distinct action that meant the first course was done, my father wound his fingers together.

"Tell me, my daughter, what do you think of the war with the Varden?" My eyes blinked as I thought carefully about my next words. Plates disappeared, and the soup course was delivered.

"With all honesty, it is no war in my eyes." Yet. "Only skirmishes."

"You do not think that the King is at war with the Varden?" I looked at the advisor who had spoken and shook my head.

"Of course not, not yet at least," I replied as I picked up my soup spoon and dipped it into the green velvet soup: broccoli and cheddar, hints of garlic.

"Do you think it will ever be a War, your highness?" I looked up; it was Stron. My lips curved into a half-smirk.

"Perhaps,"


	41. Chapter Thirty-Eight: Radiant

It was the day I planned to leave the comfort of Urû'Baen, and head back to Surda. The clothes I had selected for my travels was of sturdy linen, dark grey trimmed with a lighter grey.

Venturing into the part of my closet that held several different types of cloaks, I pulled one that was a neutral canvas beige and threw it onto my bed. It was at this time Frida, and Lydia hustled into my room for their usual morning routine.

"Your highness," Frida exclaimed as Lydia started to straighten the sheets on my bed. "We didn't realize that you were already up!"

"Yes," I said as I ran a hand through my loose hair. "I am heading out for the day and forgot to mention it."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" I looked at Frida, and sadness rushed into my body. I was going to leave these two maids without a word, I was going to leave Tolme with goodbye, I was going to leave Urû'Baen without notice like I had only been a ghost.

"What type of outing were you planning?" Lydia asked as I sat down in front of my vanity.

"I was thinking of going for a ride, it has been far too long since I have done so," I responded as someone knocked on my bedroom door. Frida went to my door and cracked it open, she exchanged a few words before I heard the door shut.

"Is something wrong?" I asked as Lydia started to gather my hair in her hands.

"Just a delivery, your highness," Frida said as she walked over and placed a silk-wrapped object on my vanity. "Since you are heading out for a ride, we will prepare you so."

Frida took over my hair from Lydia and promptly began to pull the black strands tight as she French braided my hair along my scalp. Lydia applied light amounts of kohl and lip paint, as she had gotten in the habit of doing, before walking over to my jewelry chest.

"Do you have any preferences?"

"My leather necklace and the crown I arrived with," I answered as I fingered the sapphire necklace I always wore. Frida finished braiding my hair and tied it off with a blue ribbon. Lydia trotted over with my jewelry and crown in hand.

"This crown is a straightforward design, but I find that its simplicity is what makes it so beautiful," Frida said as she placed the crown delicately on my head. "Where did you find such a thing?"

"The Dwarf King," I replied as Lydia secured Murtagh's necklace around my neck. "It was one of the many presents I received while I stayed in Tronjheim."

"The Dwarves domain!" Lydia exclaimed. "I've heard tales of their craftsmanship, but I find myself wary of enclosed spaces."

"It might seem claustrophobic at first," I responded. "but the ceilings are quite high, and after some time, I found myself forgetting that I was even under the mountain."

"We're done, your highness," Frida said as she stepped away. "I believe it is wash day, if you require anything, send for us, we shall be in the laundry."

"Thank you," I replied, smiling at the two in the mirror. "You've been more help than I deserve."

"Nonsense, it is our duty," Frida said as she waved a hand. The two bowed before ducking out of my room, leaving me in silence. I got up from my seat and pulled out a leather bag I had quired a week prior.

Into the bag went the stolen maps, the package that was delivered this morning, copied scrolls, and notes, along with food and my waterskin. Once I gathered and placed my items into the bag, I sat on the edge of my bed and pulled my tall boots on.

Once I had the laces pulled tightly and tied in neat bows, I stood up and grabbed the beige cloak and swung it around my shoulders, taking care to pin the fabric together with my matching ruby dragon pins.

Murtagh thought it was funny when he had given me the dragon pins in the likeness of Thorn. Scratch that, he thought it was hilarious. Thorn was not as amused. I had rolled my eyes before tucking them away for safekeeping.

Tugging at the cloak one last time, I picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder before turning and placing my sapphire necklace smack dab in the center of my white comforter.

I turned back to my door and grabbed my sword and short dagger, placing them on my hip. I was set, now I just had to pull off the performance that would get me out of this city.

Opening the door to my room, I strode out, putting a 'pissed off princess' look on my face as I headed for the area where the portal was set up. Both servants and guards scrambled out of my way as I came stalking past them.

I finally found the hall where the portal was. The mages standing around gave me wary looks.

"Is there something you need, your highness?" One of them asked hesitantly. My eyes snapped to the one who had spoken and narrowed.

"That much should be obvious, open it, now." He jumped, and seconds later, he was chanting a spell to open the portal. I smirked at them before walking through the portal.

Hot Surdan sun instantly hit my face. I yanked up the hood to my cloak to protect my face from the suns rays as several Empire soldier's walked up to me.

"Your highness! What are you doing here!?!"

"Do you think I need to explain myself to you?" I snapped at the one who had spoken. "Get me a horse! I'm going out for a ride!"

They scrambled about as the mage's approached me.

"Your highness, may I inquire on where you plan on going?" I turned around to look at the mage who had spoken.

"Know thy enemy," I responded with a dark smirk; the mage had a taken aback look before understanding dawned on his face. He nodded as a pitch-black horse was brought over to me. It had a black saddle, reigns, and breastplate to match. "I don't know when I'll be back, don't come after me. Someone might decide to be an imbecile and ruin my plans."

The soldiers paled and nodded back at me. With one last smirk, I spun the horse around and went into a canter immediately. I headed in the general direction of the Varden's camp, keeping a good pace.

I dodged groups of soldiers, not wanting to have to explain my reasons for being out near a battlefield. The closer I got to the battlefield, the stronger the stench of death became, and the more my horse shifted about and threw her head. She was nervous.

No longer confined to simple elf form, I entered her mind and sent calming thoughts to her. Her nervous movements ceased, and the head she had been throwing about stilled. I patted her on the neck as I cooed to her.

Once I finally made it to the corridor of passages that wound through the plateau nearby, I slowed down to a trot. No doubt, with the Varden camp being so close, there were ambush regimens on the lookout.

Opening my mind, I could feel those of the Varden lookouts. They were close. I let the horse trot halfway through the massive gorge before I pulled her to a stop and waited. It wasn't long until a small group of soldiers came riding out from behind the bend.

Jörmunder was the first I recognized, though I found it strange that he was so far from Nasuada. Perhaps the Varden were stretched thin at the moment. The riders formed a circle around me, making my mount toss her head and stamp nervously on the ground with her hoof.

I patted her neck in reassurance as Jörmunder pushed through and stopped in front of me. We regarded each other for a few seconds.

"I do hope you don't plan on attacking me," I spoke up, lifting my head to smirk at Jörmunder. "I wouldn't recommend it."

Jörmunder's eyes widened a fraction of an inch. He always kept his facial expressions well controlled.

"Your highness," He addressed me, placing a hand to his chest and bowing slightly. "I was under the impression that you were in Ûru'Baen."

"I was," I replied. "but I have come to a decision regarding our fight. I have returned to address what I have decided upon."

Jörmunder nodded before looking at two men.

"Escort her back to the camp and return." He ordered. The men both nodded before they pushed their mounts to flank me. Jörmunder moved out of my way, and we were soon on our way again.

It was about a half-hour ride to the edges of the camp, once we reached the remote checkpoint, the two men who had escorted me turned around and galloped back to their position.

The entrance guards nodded at me as I passed them. I pushed the horse in the direction of Nasuada's tent. I had a Dragon to pick up. The evidence of battle was clear as I slowly moved through the rows of tents.

Men dressed in bandages dotted the landscape, barely acknowledging that I was passing by them. My horse skirted around several cases of what looked like medical equipment as we turned down the row of tents that led to my intended destination.

Once in front of Nasuada's tent, I swung my leg over the saddle and landed softly on the packed ground. The guards in front of the tent gave me wary looks as a handed my horse off to a stable hand.

"Hay and water," I murmured to the stable hand before I turned to the flaps of Nasuada's tent. Clearly, the two guards weren't going to let just anyone in, so I reached up and lowered the hood of my cloak.

The guards stood a little taller at the revelation of my ears and crown before they stepped aside. With my lips pressed in a firm line, I ducked underneath the flap and entered the tent. No sooner had I stepped into the main area, a white streak slammed into my chest.

"Alethea!" I heard Nasuada exclaim as I stumbled back slightly.

"It's alright, Nasuada," I called as I wrapped my arms around my Dragon.

"My lady!?!" I heard Nasuada reply before she appeared.

"I did tell you not to worry," I said with a smile as Alethea climbed onto my shoulder and nuzzled her head into my shoulder.

"How did you get out?" Nasuada gaped at me.

"Same way I got in, I walked." I giggled. "The Empire soldiers aren't too keen on angering their princess. Especially one known to have a temper."

"Something tells me you gave them a taste of their own medicine." Nasuada mused as Alethea's tail wrapped around my neck.

"My Rider." Alethea purred as content sounds emitted from her body. "I have missed you."

"And I, you," I replied, brushing my fingers over the top of her sparkling head. "Nasuada, I need to speak with the others regarding what I've found."

"I'll summon the others for a meeting in Orrin's tent," Nasuada replied before she strode out of the tent.

"My rider, you have changed." I blushed slightly before shaking my head.

"One doesn't go to Urû'Baen and come out without being changed," I replied shortly before Alethea dove into my mind and started looking at the memories I had gained. When she reached a particular part, she scrutinized the memories. I let out a squeak. "You don't need to pick those apart!!!"

Alethea ignored me, and eventually, she moved on and finished a minute later. I was waiting for Alethea's judgment.

"You chose well." Alethea chirped before wiggling into my pack.

"What?" I asked. "What do you mean by that? Alethea!?!"

"Mate, Murtagh is an excellent choice in Mate," Alethea replied. My face flushed red.

"I—What?" I burst out before pulling my hood up and heading for the War tent. "A Mate? Really Lee?"

Alethea huffed from my pack and fell silent as I walked. I guess that was all I was getting from her. I had her approval, that was relieving. But why was I relieved? It's not like we were going to get married, not when my father was on the hunt for a husband.

I shook my head. I could think about this later, right now, I need to get the information I had stolen from the library to those who needed it.


	42. Chapter Thirty-Nine: Radiant

I entered the War tent and slunk into the shadows as men filed into the tent and began idle conversations. Jörmunder was among the men that arrived, and King Orrin came shortly after him.

"Lady Nasuada, you said that this was extremely important?" King Orrin asked, looking puzzled.

"Yes," Nasuada replied. "we finally have a word about the castle."

"And how did we come by that information?" King Orrin asked, not looking at all impressed.

"I believe that's where I come in," I answered, stepping out of the shadows and pulling my hood down. Several jaws dropped as eyes ran over my body. I removed my pack from my back and settled it on the table. Alethea blinked up at me as I pulled out the parchments I had shoved into the pack. 

"I believe we need to change our tactics," I said as I spread out one of the scrolls. "While in Urû Baen, I took it upon myself to 'borrow' some reading material and maps from the Royal Library."

"Your highness," One of the generals started. "How exactly did you go about retrieving these scrolls, I am sure Galbatorix's castle is heavily warded, not to mention the library."

I glanced up at the general who had spoken and smirked.

"It wasn't that hard, as the King's daughter, I have free reign of the castle," I told him, some of the men turned while one went stiff as a board and fell backward. "I am Galbatorix's biological daughter. I wasn't hard to get in, or out, of Urû'Baen and the scholars of the Royal Library where all too willing to help me secure these parchments."

I took out the map of the door that I had researched. It would be our greatest chance of entry to the castle. Unfolding it, I pressed the paper to the table and pushed it to the center.

"Well your highness," One of the generals finally said weakly. "I do have to say, you are nothing like your father."

"So I have been told General," I replied, smirking at him. "you are lucky that I take after my mother. If you will excuse me, I have other business to attend to."

I pulled my hood back up and exited the tent, leaving the generals and King Orrin to do what they wished with the information I had gathered. It was time to hunt down Eragon.

It wasn't hard to track him down considering he was near Saphira and she isn't exactly discreet. I walked over to him as Saphira moved her head in my direction. Her sparkling blue eyes latched onto me.

"I see you are back."

"Yes," I responded. "I am."

"Eragon is in center of the tents," Saphira said, motioning her broad snout at the tents aligned in a box. I walked in between the tents to see the villagers gathered in the center where they had set up their cooking station along with tables and chairs.

My eyes landed on Eragon who was talking with a blonde-haired man with a beard. My eyes slightly widened when I realized that the blonde man was Roran. Eragon smiled at something Roran said before he frowned.

"Eragon?" Roran asked. "You alright?"

"Aye, just thought I felt—" Eragon looked around and within seconds his eyes landed on me. "Mal!"

I reached up and pulled my hood down, letting my braid fall freely over my shoulder. Eragon took several long strides, and I was soon engulfed in his arms. I took a step back from the momentum of his body before I hugged him back.

"What do you think you were doing!?!" Eragon demanded as he released me to look in my eyes.

"Getting answers, and help," I replied gently, peeling his hands from my face. "Calm down."

"I'm sorry," Eragon finally said. "It's just with...."

"Things have gotten complicated have they," I said before I looked over Eragon's shoulder at Roran. Eragon perked up.

"Come, I'm sure that you want to see everyone," Eragon said before he tugged me over to Roran.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd have said you were a different man, Roran," I said softly. Roran's face was pale, and he had yet said a word.

"Is it true?" Roran finally spoke, his voice hoarse. I shared a look with Eragon.

"If you are referring to my parentage, yes," I replied. "It's true."

"Forgive us if we have a hard time, little lady." A deep voice spoke. I turned my head to see Horst looking at me with kind eyes. "We just don't see him in you."

"You are far too nice to be his daughter," Elain said, coming to a stop next to her husband, my eyes zeroed in on her bulging stomach.

"I see you are about to have another addition," I commented, smiling at Elain. Elain rubbed her hand across her stomach and smiled back.

"We hope for a girl this time,"

"I suppose after two boys, a girl seems reasonable." I laughed. "A thousand blessings on your child, Elain. I wish you both well."

"Thank you, Mal," Elain replied.

"Mal," I looked up at Eragon. "If you were in Urû'Baen, you had to have seen Murtagh."

My smile faded, and I pressed my lips together. It would at least take until sunset for someone to figure out that I wasn't going to return. Tonight was the night that Murtagh and Thorn were supposed to return to the castle.

"Yes, I did," I said as my eyes darted around, anything to not look Eragon in the eyes. He would instantly know something was amiss.

"You two... What exactly happened between the two of you?" I sighed as I scratched my arm.

"We have had a reasonable discussion Eragon. Don't worry about it." I answered him in the vaguest way possible. My mind went to nights in Murtagh's arms and the feelings I had developed but didn't understand.

"We called it." Alethea and Saphira crowed with glee, dragging my attention from Eragon.

"What is that supposed to mean!?!" I snapped back at the two.

"Mal?" I blinked and returned my attention to the real world.

"What is it?"

"Did anything happen to you?" Eragon asked. Plenty happened, I met my father, discovered just how lavish one could live, lost my womanhood, dealt with half-wit suitors. I could go on, but Eragon didn't need to know all of that.

"If you really want to know, I got forced into going to a ball. I would not suggest that you attend one, they are horrible." I told Eragon while I shrugged. "it's all a power play."

"A powerplay?" Eragon repeated. I nodded at him.

"The only thing that matters is who has a voice to my father's ears. They're all willing to do anything to get into a position of power."

"What does your father want?" I coughed.

"What do you think he wants, Eragon?" I ground out. "He's got one last egg that hasn't hatched, it won't hatch for me, but it might for someone who has Dragon Rider blood in them."

It seemed the woman of Carvahal understood my words, the men, not so much. Confusion was laced across both Eragon and Roran's faces.

"He wants to turn her into a broodmare!" Katrina exclaimed, no longer able to take the confused looks. Eragon's jaw dropped open while Roran let out a curse.

"It's not that surprising," I commented as Eragon's face started to turn red.

"Not surprising!?!" He finally exploded. "You are a person, not an animal!"

"Women are seen as only good for one thing in the capital, Eragon," I told him before I went to sit down at one of the tables.

"I wish I could have seen you in your dress." Katrina sighed.

"It was blue and sparkled like the night stars." I provided her as she sat down next to me. The package delivered this morning was like a weight in my pack, it probably didn't weight that much, but without knowing what it was, it felt like lead.

Sliding my pack off my shoulders, I set it down in my lap and dug the package out. It was wrapped in plain black silk that gave no notion to what was inside.

"What's that?" Katrina asked.

"No idea," I responded as my fingers found the start of the cloth. "it was delivered to my room this very morning, I've yet to inspect it."

Slowly pulling the silk away from the object, I finished unwrapping it until there was only one-layer left. My eyebrows shot together as I peeled back the final layer. My breath was stolen from my chest as Katrina leaned in close with excitement.

"What is this?" She gasped. "Is that you? You are beautiful!"

I stared down at the fairth, terror flashing through my body. The exquisite detail of the picture told me that Murtagh had spent a great deal of time making it.

"Roran!" Katrina gushed. "Come look!"

Roran lumbered over to the table and bent down. Soon enough, the whole village was crowding around the table.

"Isn't that a-" I quickly started wrapping the fairth back up and tucked it back into my pack, ignoring Eragon's protests.

"I know that this is you, but I still can't believe it," Roran said as he ran a hand over his beard. "Do they really have dresses that grand in Urû'Baen?"

"They do, though that dress was one of a kind," I explained. "Most dresses I saw at the ball were completely different from what I wore. They are more geared towards showing one's money and prowess by jewels."

"That seems like a waste of money," Katrina replied as she frowned.

"It is," I replied with a sigh. "but in the capital, they don't struggle for their meals."

We fell into silence as the men dispersed and went back to work.

"What was that called?" Katrina asked. "I've never seen a sketch with so much clarity."

"It's called a fairth. Through a combination of magic and extreme concentration, one can produce an image to the exact likeness of a memory." I explained, thinking back to what I had read about fairth.

"So, who made it?" Katrina questioned. "This seems like quite an intimate gesture."

"Murtagh," I replied. "it was probably Murtagh that made it."

"Eragon mentioned him, he's the one with the red dragon, right?"

"Yes, before Eragon and I made it to the Beors, Murtagh saved us from a group of Ra'zac. He traveled with us for weeks before he was dragged back to Urû'Baen."

"Mal!" I looked up at Eragon. "We need to talk."

"I'll be there in a moment!" I called before turning back to Katrina. "If you would excuse me."

"Of course," Katrina said with a wave of her hands. Standing up, I walked over to were Eragon stood, presumably conversing with Saphira.

"What is it?"

"How are you, Mal," Eragon asked, peering deeply into my eyes. "really. With the history between you two, it can't have been easy. Did you two even talk to one another?"

There was no getting around this conversation with Eragon. It would have to be dealt with eventually. There was officially one way I could handle this. I dragged my pack from my back, and took out the wrapped fairth, being careful not to disturb Alethea from her nap.

Wordlessly, I handed the fairth over to Eragon, who looked at me with a puzzled expression before pulling the silk back. The image was revealed as the last layer of silk was removed, and Eragon sucked in a breath.

Saphira moved her head and landed one massive blue eye on the stone. A curl of smoke leaked out of her nostrils. Eragon looked up at me.

"It's gotten complicated, Eragon," I told him quietly. "It has gotten so complicated."

"Does your father know about—" I shrugged my shoulders.

"It wouldn't make sense that he wouldn't, he watches Murtagh like a hawk. I've no doubt that Murtagh is forced to open his mind to him."

Eragon pulled me in for another hug. I sighed into his shirt before closing my eyes.

"I'll make things right, Mal," Eragon said. "I promise."


	43. Chapter Forty: Radiant

Alethea coasted next to Saphira as we closed in on Ellesméra, we were finally returning to our Master now that the Varden had a decent grounding against the Empire troupes. Our dragons stretched their wings out as they descended in front of Oromis's hut.

"Welcome back to Ellesméra, come," Oromis said gesturing toward the table and chairs once we had gotten our feet to the ground. On the table was a tray with bowls of fruit and nuts, half a round of cheese, a loaf of bread, a decanter of wine, and three crystal goblets.

"Would you care for a drink to wash the dust from your throat?" Oromis asked as our Dragon's left to fill their bellies.

"Yes, please," Eragon responded with a nod of his head. With an elegant motion, Oromis un-stoppered the decanter and filled three goblets. He handed one to Eragon, then one to me before settling back into his chair, arranging his white tunic with long, smooth fingers.

"Master, I—" An upraised finger from Oromis stopped him.

"Unless it is unbearably urgent, I would wait until Saphira and Alethea join us before we discuss what has brought you here. Are you agreed?" We spent an hour looking at the valley below us before Saphira and Alethea flew back.

"You do not need to tell me what has befallen you these past weeks, Eragon, Khensamel. Since Islanzadí left the forest, Arya has kept her informed of the news of the land, and every three days, Islanzadí sends a runner from our army back to Du Weldenvarden. Thus, I know of your duel with Murtagh and Thorn on the Burning Plains." Oromis said before turning to me.

"I am aware of your trip to Ûru Baen, we shall discuss this further later." He turned back to Eragon. "I know of your trip to Helgrind and how you punished the butcher from your village. And I know you attended the dwarves' clan meet in Farthen Dûr and the outcome thereof. Whatever you wish to say, then, you may say without fear of having to educate me about your recent doings." Eragon rolled a plump blueberry in the palm of his hand before responding.

"Do you know of Elva and what happened when I tried to free her of my curse?"

"Yes, even that. You may not have succeeded in removing the whole of the spell from her, but you paid your debt to the child, and that is what a Dragon Rider is supposed to do: fulfill his obligations, no matter how small or difficult they be."

"She still feels the pain of those around her."

"But now it is by her own choice," Oromis responded. "No longer does your magic force it upon her. . . . You did not come here to seek my opinion concerning Elva. What is it that weighs upon your heart, Eragon? Ask what you will, and I promise I shall answer all of your questions to the best of my knowledge."

"What," Eragon started, "if I don't know the right questions to ask?"

A twinkle appeared in Oromis's gray eyes as I stared into my wine glass.

"Wisdom beseeches you, Eragon." I murmured before taking a sip of the fermented drink.

"Ah, you begin to think like an elf. You must trust us as your mentors to teach you and Saphira those things of which you are ignorant. And you must also trust us to decide when it is appropriate to broach those subjects, for there are many elements of your training that should not be spoken of out of turn."

Eragon placed the blueberry in the precise center of the tray.

"When I was last here, did you know who my father was?" I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, this was not the discussion I wanted to have with Eragon.

"We did."

"And did you know that Murtagh was my brother?"

"We did, but—"

"Then why didn't you tell me!" Eragon exclaimed, and jumped to his feet, knocking over his chair. He pounded a fist against his hip, strode several feet away, and stared at the shadows within the tangled forest. I shared a look with Master Oromis while we let Eragon vent his anger.

"Were you ever going to tell me? Did you keep the truth about my family a secret because you were afraid it would distract me from my training? Or was it that you were afraid I would become like my father?"

"Or did you not even consider it important enough to mention? And what of Brom? Did he know? Did he choose Carvahal to hide in because of me, because I was the son of his enemy? You can't expect me to believe it was a coincidence he and I happened to be living only a few miles apart and that Arya just happened to send Saphira's egg to me in the Spine."

"What Arya did was an accident," asserted Oromis. "She had no knowledge of you then."

"When Brom first saw Saphira, I remember he said something to himself about being unsure whether 'this' was a farce or a tragedy. At the time, I thought he was referring to the fact that an ordinary farmer like myself had become the first new Rider in over a hundred years. But that's not what he meant, was it? He was wondering whether it was a farce or a tragedy that Morzan's youngest son should be the one to take up the Riders' mantle! Is that why you and Brom trained me, to be nothing more than a weapon against Galbatorix so that I may atone for the villainy of my father? Is that all I am to you, a balancing of the scales?"

"My whole life has been a lie! Since the moment I was born, no one but Saphira has wanted me: not my mother, not Garrow, not Aunt Marian, not even Brom. Brom showed interest in me only because of Morzan and Saphira. I have always been an inconvenience. Whatever you think of me, though, I am not my father, nor my brother, and I refuse to follow in their footsteps." Eragon placed his hands on the table.

"I'm not about to betray the elves or the dwarves or the Varden to Galbatorix if that's what you are worried about. I will do what I must, but from now on, you have neither my loyalty nor my trust. I will not—"

The ground and the air shook as Glaedr growled, his upper lip pulling back to reveal the full length of his fangs.

"You have more reason to trust us than anyone else, hatchling, if not for our efforts, you would be long dead." Saphira, Alethea and I both turned our eyes to our Masters.

"Tell him,"

"Saphira is right," I spoke quietly. "I believe it is time."

"You know?"

"Yes." Saphira, Alethea, and I responded at the same time.

"You know what?" Eragon bellowed. With one slim finger, Oromis pointed toward the fallen chair.

"Sit."

When Eragon remained standing, Oromis sighed.

"I understand this is difficult for you, Eragon, but if you insist upon asking questions and then refuse to listen to the answers, frustration will be your only reward. Now, please sit, so we can talk about this in a civilized manner." Glaring, Eragon righted the chair and dropped into it like a pouting child.

"Why?" he asked. "Why didn't you tell me that my father was Morzan, the first of the Forsworn?"

"First things first Eragon," I started, playing with my now empty goblet. "Morzan isn't your father, you and Murtagh are only half-brothers."

Eragon went pale and grabbed the table to keep from swaying in his seat.

"My half brother . . . But then, who . . . ?" Oromis plucked a blackberry from a bowl, contemplated it for a moment, and then ate it.

"Glaedr and I did not wish to keep this a secret from you, but we had no choice. We both promised, with the most binding of oaths, that we would never reveal to you the identity of your father or of your half-brother, nor discuss your lineage, unless you had discovered the truth on your own or unless the identity of your relatives had placed you in danger. What transpired between you and Murtagh during the Battle of the Burning Plains satisfies enough of those requirements that we can now speak freely on this topic."

"Oromis-elda, if Murtagh is my half-brother, then who is my father?"

"Look into your heart, Eragon," Glaedr said. "You already know who he is, and you have known for a long time." Eragon shook his head.

"I don't know! I don't know! Please . . .” A plume of smoke and flame jetted from Glaedr's nostrils as he snorted.

"Is it not obvious? Your father is Brom." Eragon gaped at the gold dragon.

"But how?" he exclaimed. Before either Glaedr or Oromis could respond, Eragon whirled toward Saphira, Alethea and I, with both his mind and his voice. "You knew? You knew, and yet you let me believe Morzan was my father this whole time, even though it . . . even though I—I..."

Eragon started as Oromis touched him on the shoulder.

"Eragon, you need to calm yourself. Remember the techniques I taught you for meditating. Control your breathing, and concentrate upon letting the tension drain out of your limbs into the ground beneath you. . . . Yes, like that. Now again, and breathe deeply."

Eragon's hands grew still, and his heartbeat slowed as he followed Oromis's instructions. When Eragon was calm again, he turned to Saphira, Alethea and I.

"You knew?" Saphira lifted her head from the ground.

"Oh, Eragon, I wanted to tell you. It pained me to see how Murtagh's words tormented you and yet to be unable to help you. I tried to help—I tried so many times—but like Oromis and Glaedr, I too swore in the ancient language to keep Brom's identity a secret from you, and I could not break my oath."

"None of us could," Alethea added.

"Wh-when did he tell you?" Eragon asked.

"The day after the Urgals attacked us outside of Teirm, while you were still unconscious," I spoke up.

"Was that also when he told you how to contact the Varden in Gil'ead?"

"Yes. Before we knew what Brom wished to say, he had us swear to never speak of this with you unless you found out on your own. To our regret, we agreed."

"Is there anything else he told you?" Eragon demanded. "Any other secrets I ought to know, like that Murtagh isn't my only sibling, or perhaps how to defeat Galbatorix?"

"During the two days we spent hunting the Urgals, Brom recounted the details of his life to us so that if he died, and if ever you learned of your relation to him, his son could know what kind of a man he was and why he had acted as he did. Also, Brom gave me a gift for you."

"A gift?"

"A memory of him speaking to you as your father and not as Brom, the storyteller," I interjected

"Before Saphira shares this memory with you, however," Oromis said. "it would be best, I think if you knew how this came to pass. Will you listen to me for a while, Eragon?"

Eragon hesitated, then nodded. Lifting his crystal goblet, Oromis drank of his wine, then returned the cup to the table.

"Alethea and I will give you a moment of privacy," I said before getting up from my chair and running to the cliff. I leaped as far as I could, and Alethea swiftly picked me up.


	44. Chapter Forty-One: Radiant

Alethea quickly dove back towards the hut at Glaedr's command. When we reached Oromis's hut, we saw Eragon at the edge of the cliff, looking out into the valley with a distressed look. I dropped to the ground and slowly walked up to him.

"Are you angry with us?" Eragon turned to look at the three of us.

"No, of course not. I understand that you could not break your oath in the ancient language. . . . I just wish that Brom could have told me this himself and that he hadn't felt it necessary to hide the truth from me." Eragon stood utterly still for a few minutes before snapping out of the memory.

"Are you going to be all right?" Saphira asked.

Yes, I think I will, actually. I don't like some of the things Brom did, but I am proud to call him my father and to carry his name. He was a great man. . . . It bothers me, though, that I never had the opportunity to talk to either of my parents as my parents."

"At least you were able to spend time with Brom. I am not so fortunate; both my sire and my mother died long before I hatched. The closest I can come to meeting them are a few hazy memories from Glaedr."

We stood there until Oromis came out of his hut bearing three bowls of soup. We ate in silence until we were done with

"Would you like to see a fairth of your mother, Eragon?" Eragon froze for a moment, astonished.

"Yes, please." From within the folds of his white tunic, Oromis withdrew a shingle of thin gray slate, which he passed to Eragon.

"Brom gave me the fairth for safekeeping before he left for Carvahal, and now I give it to you."

"It reminds me of the one of Mal..." Eragon trailed off.

"It is completely different Eragon."

"No, it's not," Eragon argued back, I sighed as Oromis raised an eyebrow.

"Eragon, I'm not exactly dressed for battle like she is," I said with a look, he shook his head and pointed to my pack.

"Bring it out, I want to compare," Eragon said, crossing his arms. He wasn't going to let this go until he compared them, damn. I sighed and pulled the wrapped fairth out of my pack. I gently pulled the fabric back and set the fairth down next to Eragon's.

"There, happy? They aren't alike." Eragon studied the two fairth's while Glaedr moved his head to see what Eragon's fuss was about. "I'm in a dress, your mother is not."

"Aura," Eragon finally said. "You both have the same aura."

"You are beautiful Mal," Saphira said. "No wonder he made this fairth."

I took the fairth back and wrapped it up again, placing it back in its spot.

"Master, Eragon and I need swords that won't break underneath a Riders sword."

"I shall send word to the smith Rhunön that she may expect you later in the day."

"But she swore she would never forge another sword." Oromis sighed.

"She did, but her advice would still be worth seeking out. If anyone can recommend the proper weapon for you, it would be she. Besides, even if you like the feel of Támerlein, I am sure Rhunön would want to examine the sword before you left with it."

"Over a hundred years have elapsed since Támerlein was last used in battle, and it might need some slight refurbishing. Go and visit the Menoa tree; I know you will not rest easy until you have. See there if you can find the weapon the werecat enticed you with. When you have satisfied your curiosity, retire to the quarters of your treehouse, which Islanzadí's servants keep in readiness for you and Saphira. Tomorrow we shall do what we can."

"But, Master, we have so little time—"

"And the four of you are far too tired for any more excitement today. Trust me, Eragon; you will do better for the rest. I think the hours between will help you to digest all we have spoken of. Even by the measure of kings, queens, and dragons, this conversation of ours has been no light exchange."

We left Oromis's hut and landed in the clearing of the Menoa tree. Thicker than a hundred of the giant pines that encircled it, the Menoa tree rose toward the sky like a mighty pillar, it's arching canopy thousands of feet across.

Eragon pried a loose slab of bark from the moss at his feet and held it up.

"What do you think?" I shook my head.

"That is definitely not what we are looking for Eragon." For several more hours, the four of us prowled the clearing. "We will see you two in the morning, I'm not leaving Ellesméra until I unearth whatever is here."

Alethea and I quickly flew back to the tree that served as our living area. I tiredly walked into the main room and stood in the middle of the room. I was too tired to draw a bath, but I needed to take one.

"My lady, you do know we are at your service, right?" Nearí said as she and Karí hustled into the room. I started to laugh, I really missed these two. Karí disappeared into the bathroom while Nearí helped me out of my armor.

"Well, I got to have a reasonable conversation with Murtagh while I was Urû Baen. That is more than what I was hoping for." Nearí's eyes brightened.

"So you have found him!?!"

"I wish, have you heard of the dragon rider?" Nearí nodded. "Murtagh is the new dragon rider. Another pair has fallen victim to my father. I- I don't really know what to do. I'm supposed to fight, but I can't fight them, they never had a choice. I think my presence in Urû'Baen only made things worse for them."

"Don't say that," Karí said, walking into the room. I sighed and walked over to my bag to pull out the farith. I handed it to Nearí, and the two bent over the fairth.

"I have cornered myself," I said quietly.

Nearí set the fairth back on its fabric cover before shooing me into the bathroom. Karí was doing the same with Alethea. I was plopped into the water.

"You are too hard on yourself!" Nearí scolded before her face returned to its usual mothering look. "How have your dreams been?"

I sunk farther into the water.

"Bad, I found a way to fix that, but I have to be in Urû'Baen. I have dug my own grave."

*********************

I was sitting at Rhunön's table drinking tea with the elf when Eragon staggered in with a lump of metal in his hands. Rhunön and I got up and walked closer to Eragon, he dropped it at our feet.

"Where did you find that?" Rhunön demanded. In as few words as possible, Eragon explained about Solembum and the Menoa tree.

"Eragon! The Menoa tree isn't something you want to test!" I scolded as Rhunön ran her fingers on the lump of metal.

"You were either very foolish or very brave to test the Menoa tree as you did. She is not one to trifle with."

"Is there enough ore for a sword?" Saphira asked anxiously.

"Several swords, if past experience is anything to judge by," Rhunön said, rising to her full height. Eragon looked at me with excitement while Rhunön glared at her forge. "Let us to it, then! You two need a sword? Very well, I shall give you swords the likes of which has never been seen before in Alagaësia."

"But what of your oath? Rhunön-elda?" I asked.

"Think not of it for the time being," Rhunön responded with a wave of her hand. "When must the four of you return to the Varden?"

"We should have left the day we arrived," Eragon responded.

Rhunön paused, her expression introspective. "Then I shall have to hurry that which I do not normally hurry and use magic to craft that which would otherwise require weeks of work by hand. You and your dragons will help me. We shall not rest tonight, but I promise you, you shall have your swords by tomorrow morning."

Bending at the knees, Rhunön lifted the ore from the ground without discernible effort and carried it to the bench with her carving in progress. Rhunön gave us a tight-fitting jerkin and a fabric apron treated so that it was impervious to fire, so we had protection from the flames.

Using magic, we erected a fire pit outside of Rhunön's house. From there we turned the fire pit into a forge. For nearly an hour, Rhunön tended the fire, cultivating it with the care of a gardener growing roses, until the wood had burned down to a flatbed of coals.

"Now." Eragon lifted the lump of ore and gently lowered it into the trough. On top of the metal and the coals, we shoveled a thick blanket of charcoal. From there we worked with the bellows to bring the temperature of the ore higher and higher.

"We could help with this, you know," Saphira said from her position in front of the makeshift forge. Alethea made a sound agreement and bent her nose to the forge.

"It is not hot enough," Alethea said as she withdrew her snout.

.

"Yes," Rhunön said, "but if we melt it too quickly, the metal will not combine with the charcoal and become hard and flexible enough for a sword. Save your fire, dragons. We shall need it later."

Every now and then, we would abandon the bellows to shovel a new layer of charcoal over the fire.

"That should be sufficient. Leave the bellows." We helped Rhunön shovel out the coals resting on top of the metal, or should I say liquid metal.

"What now?" Eragon asked.

"Now, we wait."

"For what?"

Rhunön gestured toward the sky, where the light from the setting sun painted a tattered array of clouds red and purple and gold. "It must be dark when we work the metal if we are to correctly judge its color. Also, the brightsteel needs time to cool so that it will be soft and easy to shape. Khensamel, come".

I walked over to Rhunön, and she held out her arms, I wrapped my fingers around her forearms as she did the same with mine. In a quick burst, knowledge of making a sword flooded my mind. I let go and blinked several times, processing what Rhunön had given me.

"I understand Rhunön-elda."

"Good, in the meantime, let us talk about your swords," Rhunön said to Eragon. "How do you fight, with one hand or two?"

"It varies. If I have a choice, I prefer to wield a sword with one hand and carry a shield with my other. However, circumstances have not always been favorable to me, and I have often had to fight without a shield. Then I like being able to grip the hilt with both hands, so I can deliver a more powerful stroke. The pommel on Zar' roc was large enough to grasp with my left hand if I had to, but the ridges around the ruby were uncomfortable, and they did not afford me a secure hold. It would be nice to have a slightly longer hilt."

"I take it you do not want a true two-handed sword?".

"No, it would be too big for fighting indoors."

"That depends upon the size of the hilt and the blade combined, but in general, you are correct. Would you be amenable to a hand-and-a-half sword instead?"

"Yes, a hand-and-a-half sword would be perfect, I think."

"And how long would you like the blade?"

"No longer than Zar'roc's."

"Mmh. Do you want a straight blade or a curved blade?"

"Straight."

"Have you any preferences as to the guard?"

"Not especially."

"So, a sword equally suited for the unrestrained bloodshed of a battlefield as it is for defending yourself in the narrow tunnels under Farthen Dûr. A sword for all occasions, of average length, but for the hilt, which shall be longer than average."

"A sword for killing Galbatorix," Eragon muttered.

"And as such, it must be well protected against magic. . . .Armor has improved a great deal in the past century, so the tip will need to be narrower than I used to make them, the better to pierce plate and mail and to slip into the gaps between the various pieces. Mmh."

Rhunön then proceeded to measure our hands and arms. Afterward, she retrieved a wrought-iron poker from the forge and tossed it toward Eragon.

"Go on now. Up on your feet and let me see how you move with a sword." Walking out from under the roof of the open-walled forge, Eragon obliged her by demonstrating several of the forms Brom had taught us.

"Oh, this is hopeless." Rhunön stepped in front of Eragon, holding another poker. Her

brow furrowed with a fierce scowl as she raised the poker before her in a salute and shouted, "Have at you, Shadeslayer!"

They sparred for a few short minutes until the pokers were mangled pieces of metal.

"Now I know exactly what shape your sword should have."

"But how will you make it?" A twinkle of amusement appeared in Rhunön's eyes.

"I won't. You shall make the sword instead of me, Shadeslayer." I nearly laughed at Eragon's expression.

"Me? But I was never apprenticed to a blacksmith or a bladesmith. I have not the skill to forge even a common brush knife."

"Nevertheless, you shall be the one to make this sword."

"But how? Will you stand beside me and give me orders as I hammer the metal?"

"Hardly," Rhunön replied. "No, I shall guide your actions from within your mind so that your hands may do what mine cannot. It is not a perfect solution, but I can think of no other means of evading my oath that will also allow me to ply my craft."

"What about Mal?" Another amused look crossed Rhunön face.

"She knows what she needs to do." We then headed to the ore and had the dragon's stomp on it until it was approved by Rhunön. I waited for Rhunön to get accustomed to maneuvering Eragon's body.

From there Eragon controlled by Rhunön and I hammered out steel. While Eragon's was more normal looking, my sword was going to be thin and leaner than the average sword. The forge was lit up by the sparks from our hits on hot metal.

We continued into the night and sang to the metal into swords. When she was done with Eragon's blade, I let her into my mind to finish up my blade. After the blade had been deemed worthy, I sat down and used a series of stones to polish the blade.

"Enough," Rhunön said as Eragon swayed in his seat. "You as well Khensamel."

"But we're not finished!" Eragon protested, turning toward Rhunön.

"I have no more need of you, Shadeslayer. Go and dream until dawn."

"But—"

"You are tired, and even with my magic, you are liable to ruin the sword if you continue to work on it. Now that the blade is done, I can attend to the rest without interference from my oath, so go. You will find a bed on the second floor of my house. If you are hungry, there is food in the pantry."

Eragon hesitated before disappearing into Rhunön house.

"That includes you as well Khensamel." I stood up and looked at the atrium.

"I am unsure sleep would be of any use to me right now."

"You need sleep to fight."

"I need to keep my sanity," I responded, rubbing my shoulder.

"Staying awake won't help." I sighed in defeat and walked over to where Alethea was curled up on the ground. I climbed onto her leg and curled up near her shoulder while she brought a wing over to cover me.

"You need to go back, my rider. This cannot continue."

"I am afraid to."

**Author's Note:**

> “The path may be rocky and filled with thorns, but we shall forage on, for our dragons have wings and their fire is hot.”
> 
> -Khensamel


End file.
